му ƒαη∂σм αят(ѕ) вσσк

gσтнαм 2114

σмιgσѕн ι ℓσνє gσтнαм ιт'ѕ ℓιтєяαℓℓу му ƒανσяιтє ѕнσω ααααннннннн... αηуωαуѕ... ι ∂є¢ι∂є∂ тσ мαкє αη αυ ¢αℓℓє∂ єαятн-357 уєαя 2114 αη∂ ι нσρє уσυ gυуѕ ℓιкє тнιѕ ℓιттℓє ѕтσяу... ι'ℓℓ gινє α ∂єѕ¢яιρтιση σƒ тнє υηινєяѕє ℓαтєя вυт ι тнιηк уα'ℓℓ ωιℓℓ ƒιη∂ ѕσмє ρяєтту gℓαяιηg ∂郃єяєη¢єѕ ;)

• • •
Fish Mooney's Nightclub, 10:47 pm

The nightclub was packed with people, all the tables full and a line streaming out the door. The red coverings of the table lamps cast a red glow over everything, making the room semi-dark. A band was performing on the small, square stage, people cheering them on as they played rock music. Two bouncers sat in front of a booth with velvet drapes that partially covered the sitting area. As the music raged and the crowd cheered and drank, two women sat in the booth, conversing with each other.

"Ms. Dent is demanding fifty grand at the least for Lincoln Street," on of the women inside said. She was African, looked around mid-twenties, and had long black hair with scarlet streaks going through it like fish in water.

"Tell her she can take her demand and shove it where the sun don't shine," said the second woman. She looked younger than the first and talked in an English; she had hollow cheeks and a sharp nose. Her dark eyebrows were stuck in a scowl as she reached for her drink. "We ain't giving "Ms. Dent" squat."

"We have to, Olivia," the African woman said as she took a sip of the golden liquid in her drinking glass. "Dent owns Lincoln and the surrounding neighborhoods. It's her turf. If we don't cooperate, she could send all of her goons at us, and we'd be dead in an instant."

The woman named Olivia gave a harsh laugh and gulped down her drink. "You worry too much, Fish," she said. "Dent ain't had a good deal since Batwoman was around. Lincoln is all she has."

Fish tilted her head slightly and took another sip of her drink. "I know this isn't the most desirable outcome, Olivia," she said in a steady and slow voice, "But unfortunately we must comply. Fifty grand is nothing compared to what she could be demanding. And ever since Dent's... accident, she could change the deal at any time. Or kill us. Or-"

"This is bloody mad!," exclaimed Olivia indignantly. "Everyone's been so scared to cross Dent - no, "Two-Face" - since she got half her face blown off! We ain't the Jokers, or the Thornes, or the bloody Maronis! We have nothing to fear from that two-faced bi-"

"Enough." Olivia stopped talking abruptly as though an invisible hand had covered her mouth. Fish's eyes narrowed as she moved hands across the table, resting them on Olivia's. "You are going to give Two-Face the fifty grand tomorrow at two o'clock at Lincoln. Fail..." Fish took her fork and speared the steak on her plate, then held it up to Olivia's fear-stricken face. "And there will be consequences, Penguin." Olivia gulped.

"Don't - don't call me that, Fish," said Olivia quietly.

"Just get it done, Cobblepot. It would be shame if you just disappeared one day." Olivia gaped as Fish smiled and exited the booth. Her expression quickly changed to rage, her face pale with anger and her eyes bulging. She roared in fury and shattered the glass in her hand, but her cry was drowned out by the clubbing crowd.