"Discord & Disorder"
Disclaimer: Ginger (c) me.
A/N: I decided to do a complete and thorough redo. As always, constructive criticism and reviews are all appreciated.
Chapter 1: Distrust
In Arkham City, the sky remained gray as the snow fell, coating the ground in white. The prisoners were freezing from the cold; no jackets were available to the criminals unless they snatched them from the political prisoners and none of the buildings were equipped with heating.
This didn't deter a small trio of thugs from making their way towards the Solomon Wayne Courthouse. The walk from the Bowery to Park Row was tedious, but better than heading to Amusement Mile.
'Sure as Hell beats running into the Joker and Harley Quinn.' As much as they had to give the harlequin some credit for toughening up within the past few months, her association with the clown would always be her downfall.
The leader, a red-headed female, led the pack in a cozy-looking coat. Being one of the people who knew about the construction of the demented prison had its advantages, like being able to grab some warm, albeit dirty clothing. The two males were tense, trying to keep warm in their dinky sweatshirts, having thrown away their puffy down jackets to bury any sign about their affiliation. However, they were toughing it out, arms crossed around their bodies in order to retain body heat.
Once they were a mile from the former city hall, a group of Two-Face's men stopped them, weapons raised. "What the Hell are you guys doin' here?" One of them asked.
Even though the men had dropped off their coats, the basic attire was easily recognizable as someone from Cobblepot's group.
'Great... Just what we need...' "We wanna join your gang," the red-head simply stated. She made no move and neither did the men on the offensive, so she continued, "Take us to Two-Face so I can speak with him." Shoulders relaxed, her body posture showed no fear at the threat of blunt weaponry.
"And what if we don't?" One challenged, advancing forward a step in order to intimidate them. The others followed suit, prepared to attack.
'Oh, gees.' Of course, this seemed to be the mindset of most of them: outsiders weren't exactly welcome unless the boss said so. Who could blame them? Traitors were all around, especially ones working for Riddler.
Unfortunately, it didn't work. Instead, the ginger-haired woman reached behind her and pulled a gun out of her covering. "Well, I guess I'll just have to take matters into my own hands." She lifted the rifle and aimed. "You wouldn't want that, would you?" The grin on her face was like the Cheshire Cat's. The two next to her did the same, pulling out smaller firearms, making it a total of five armed weapons against five regular weapons.
They'd be damned if they thought they could bully her into leaving. Penguin's men were more brutal than these guys; they wouldn't have just made a petty warning.
Looking around into the air to spot any available snipers, the opposing goons muttered curses under their breath as their search brought up nothing aside from empty space. Very few snipers were on the ground, and none were around the area; they were usually patrolling the borders of the gang territory, and the border was miles away.
After a while, the head honcho of the ensemble grumbled, "Fine, fine! Just don't shoot." Before they turned around, he added, "Two-Face can deal with you guys; this ain't our damn problem..."
'Really?' If their former boss ever heard them say that, they would've been shot on the spot. As mercenaries, they were expected to take care of what needed to be.
Without an extra comment, the three followed the others to the hall of justice, reconciling their guns as they did so.
When they arrived, the aggravated looks received did little to lighten up the atmosphere. However, the triad didn't care; their main focus was on following the band to their boss' office.
'Talk about group mentality...'
"Boss?" The man who last spoke knocked on the rustic door.
"What?" was the brief reply sent his way.
"Some people out here wanna see you." He cautiously peered over at the threesome before looking back. "They say it's important."
It took a few moments, but the knob finally turned and the man of the hour came out. Due to the expression on half of his face, he seemed peeved. From what they could see, some papers were neatly stacked whereas others lay scattered on the ground.
"They're askin' to join our ranks, sir. I don't think-"
"We didn't ask for your opinion, now did we?" The gravelly voice of his harsh personality cut him off. When there wasn't a response, he continued, "We've got it from here, so you guys can scram." The harsh demand didn't go unnoticed as his goons left, leaving the four alone.
"Come on in; excuse the mess..." The nicer side of Harvey managed to surface as they entered the confines of the office.
There, the leader of the trinity made herself as comfortable as possible. The lackeys remained guarded and upright, ready to defend, if necessary.
"Now, let's get down to business..."
Certain people couldn't be trusted, so it was best to be very selective of those you do. It was a basic life lesson Harvey Dent learned, and it would certainly apply in this position. In the years he started out as an assistant district attorney, working in the fast-paced environment gave him a close look behind the scenes: slander was used for the wrong reasons. People would do anything for a raise. As a result, his anger became harder to manage.
As a district attorney, he experienced the worst of it. It almost seemed like everyone was against him, even if the people of Gotham looked up to him like a God. Paparazzi made up stories against him in order to produce more sales, his coworkers would watch him like a hawk in order to stoop upon a mistake, and the Gotham City Police Department had been pretty wary at first. The "accident" with Maroni destroyed the bonds restricting the anger and his darker personality, turning him into the monster people saw him as today.
Now, as one of the top members of the Rogues' Gallery, it was hard to differentiate the loyal from the fake, due to his increased paranoia. It seemed like everyone was after him, ready to take his head for their boss... or, in the case of a certain clown, just for fun. In Arkham City, thugs were desperate, or forced to work as a double agent for one of the three groups. Nearly all of the plays had been rumored to be from Joker's group, although he wouldn't doubt that Penguin was doing the same.
The reality of the situation Two-Face was in, was that a small group of thugs entered his territory like it was nothing, demanding to join. Who did they think they were? He had to be wary.
"First off, we're the ones making the rules around here. Got it?" Without waiting for a response, Big Bad Harv' continued, "Now, what makes you guys think you're worthy enough to join our cause?"
"Two-Face, I wouldn't be surprised if your lip-flappin' goons told you about me." The red-head smirked as arrogance coated her tone, "Because everyone knows I'm the second best sniper around." Behind her, the ruffians rolled their eyes. One of them groaned in annoyance as well while the other's palm met his face.
"Really?" Two-Face's tone was challenging, fresh with a retort, "Then why haven't we heard about your skills? If Penguin threw you out so easily, then you're not as good as you think."
A brief pair of chuckles were released.
Turning around with a fiery, brown-eyed glare, she noticed that they were also smirking, trying to contain their laughter at the witty remark. 'What the Hell?' She'd deal with them later... assholes. Snapping back, her eyebrows furrowed in irritation and the pride on her face was replaced with frustration. "Don't give me that shit, Dent. We all hear people talk, so don't play dumb with me."
"Second best is just the first place loser," he replied, adding fuel to the fire, "We only take in the best, and second best just don't cut it." His expression remained firm as he took some menacing steps toward the cocky girl.
He was trying to piss her off... and she had to give him credit where it was due, because it was working. She didn't back down. Instead, her face was red with anger, very similar in color to her hair, but faded within moments. The mystery woman stood her ground and said, "Well, y'know what? In this place, you take what you can get. You wouldn't pass up on the opportunity to take in more gunners; competition's gettin' fierce with Joker and Penguin. Last I heard, Penguin has a few tricks up his sleeve, and Joker's always got somethin' planned at the last minute."
After a few moment's tension, Two-Face backed up and took out his infamous coin, scarred on one side and fine on the other, much like himself. "Let's see what the coin thinks." With a quick flick of the thumb, the coin was thrown into the air.
Spinning...
... spinning...
... spinning...
... until it lost momentum and began to fall.
Once the coin landed in his open palm, he clenched it shut before revealing the results: clean head. "You guys are in; you can go."
As the shortest member made way to follow her companions, he added, "We're not through with you, girl."
'Of course... Always the girls.' She rolled her eyes, but begrudgingly stayed, reassuring her pals that she would be fine and parting ways to allow the employer and employee some peace. "Was squashin' my ego in front of them not satisfyin' enough for you? Now you gotta-"
Harvey effectively cut her off with, "Tell us about Cobblepot's plans, or you can join the kitty cat down in the cellar. Your choice."
'Huh, finally he gets it.' "Now what makes you think I'd know?" At most, it was teasing. Since no answer came, she went on, "Let's make a deal: I'll tell you everything I know... if I can get a higher position. I'm definitely not grunt material."
"How high?" He wasn't about to let a newbie into the ranks of his most trusted.
Even though she already had one picked out, she seemed to contemplate this before replying, "Nothing too up there... Patrol leader, perhaps?"
That was a title higher than a grunt, but still low overall. Not much of a problem for him to handle. "Deal, but we'll still be keeping an eye on you." His voice changed from rough to a more normal tone of pitch. "Now, what's Penguin up to?"
"Well, what do you already know?"
"He's got a new initiation ceremony going on for anyone who joins. True or false?"
'Oh boy...' She nodded. "Yeah, we found a traitor and it sure as Hell pissed him off, so that was what he did. Each time, it's different. Mostly, we've been usin' the Gladiator Pit to pick out the best." When he didn't add anything after that, she inquired, "What else?"
"Where did he get his thugs?"
Brief and to the point... She liked it; no sugarcoating necessary. "Some came to us, brave enough to try and join. We picked a lot of them off of the street in the Bowery, though. He loved havin' us patrol the border to keep anyone from joining your gang." A smirk graced her face, arrogant and taunting. "Guess that's why it was so easy to enter your territory unnoticed."
Within seconds, Two-Face made a harsh turn and the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the room. The other occupant of the room was rubbing the left side of her face, where a red mark would surely show up within a few hours.
"What the fuckin' Hell?" The furious exclamation was loud and Two-Face could be sure some of his men heard it as he spotted a few turn towards the box out of the corner of his eye. "Can't take a little joke?" What was wrong with this guy? ... aside from the obvious.
"Keep your damn comments to yourself." This girl needed to be put in her place and if he needed to do it, then so be it. Pride was the downfall of many people. "Thanks to that little snide remark, you're going on your first assignment... tonight."
A few minutes later, the door to the office was opened and the female exited, looking annoyed yet somewhat satisfied. She made her way through the crowd of unwarranted stares towards the two men whom originally flanked her. 'Fuckin' bastard.'
Two-Face followed shortly afterwards, stopping when he spotted one of his right-hand men. "We need you to gather all of the information you can find about Ginger. Ask the others what they know about her. We want to know everything."
The man knew that, in the prison, it was impossible to find reliable information unless you were the Riddler, but he didn't dare speak up to the bipolar man. "Yes, sir. Right away."
Harvey nodded as the other male left. "Perfect..." He couldn't trust her; women were always fairly conniving. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer...
... unless it was Batman. Then you'd try to stay as far away from him as possible.