Post by Deleted on Jul 26, 2014 20:50:46 GMT -5
Pulse. Beat times pulse. Orange lights, banjo's playing. Then a few chords on a piano as the drum solo continues. Two-face had always made his own entrances. This was a "classier" venue though the platitudes were the same. The scum was not so prevalent here but it was around, no doubt about that. Amidst the nice change of setting and country pop hits, Two-face's rhetorical stance was the same , it’s let itself with the reputation that Dent holds for all night clubs: boredom. Yes there are women who should just walk in naked, but that’s boring.
The act of sex isn’t boring to Dent, but routine has and never will be energizing to him. Use them, use them, discard them. He’s the best at what he does. Women are expandable. If they didn’t talk to so much the experience may be – better? Two-face shakes his head as he enters the VIP elevator, he’s alone tonight. Back from a haircut and ready to talk to the woman who has caused him to challenge his own ethics. She is seductive and also pressing. She get’s too close to her interests and then wants to dig deeper. Two-face knows he cannot emotionally have a relationship with anyone, but this is different. This is the one anomaly that as time has gone by, reveals itself to be the only thing he can call “friendship”. He gruffs as he walks to a table and sits down. There is a walkway extending from the VIP section down the the main club area. But he can’t see anything. One hundred plus people, cowboy hats and ripped jeans. This felt like a Justin Timberlake goes Country scene.
He reaches in in his suit-pocket for a cigar. The grasping of the black silk and the shouting of “Shit!” means that Dent doesn’t have a cigar left. He knew he should have ordered more. He does reach for his coin, he never forgets that. If he lost it, he would… well he cringes and closes his eyes to what that would be. Everyone in this club would be dead, including himself. You don’t throw life away, you can’t cheat fate or chance.
He waits a few minutes. He must have passed her on his way in. He looks around, one eye following the other surveying the anachronistic landscape. He doesn’t look around but he does order a scotch and drinks it quickly while ordering three more. Harvey’s liquor intake has increased, he doesn’t really get drunk. The last time was a few weeks ago. He ended up raping some prostitute, an old one now that he remembers. He switles his fingers on the top of the open glass. A soft “Oov” sound is picked up.
Two- Face responds with a malevolent splash of, “She doesn’t owe us anything, why do we even keep seeing her. If we can’t screw her or skin her, what is the point.” Harvey’s thoughts border on those extremes and the in-betweens. He flips his coin. Tails: He’ll leave in the next 10 minutes if he doesn't find her... Then he see's her! This bullshit has gone on far too long, luckily for Selina, it has ended if ever so briefly. He wants to know why it's been so long since they've met. Selina has know Harv' for quite some time, longer than many people. Their relationship is hard to describe, since Dent is not psychologically capable of having one. He borders on hurting her and comforting her. But to say that is is a relationship would be to misread the situation entirely. He sits down in front of her in a fast paced manner, not saying high but just observing her aura. "Does Kitty always wear the nicest makeup for me?"
The act of sex isn’t boring to Dent, but routine has and never will be energizing to him. Use them, use them, discard them. He’s the best at what he does. Women are expandable. If they didn’t talk to so much the experience may be – better? Two-face shakes his head as he enters the VIP elevator, he’s alone tonight. Back from a haircut and ready to talk to the woman who has caused him to challenge his own ethics. She is seductive and also pressing. She get’s too close to her interests and then wants to dig deeper. Two-face knows he cannot emotionally have a relationship with anyone, but this is different. This is the one anomaly that as time has gone by, reveals itself to be the only thing he can call “friendship”. He gruffs as he walks to a table and sits down. There is a walkway extending from the VIP section down the the main club area. But he can’t see anything. One hundred plus people, cowboy hats and ripped jeans. This felt like a Justin Timberlake goes Country scene.
He reaches in in his suit-pocket for a cigar. The grasping of the black silk and the shouting of “Shit!” means that Dent doesn’t have a cigar left. He knew he should have ordered more. He does reach for his coin, he never forgets that. If he lost it, he would… well he cringes and closes his eyes to what that would be. Everyone in this club would be dead, including himself. You don’t throw life away, you can’t cheat fate or chance.
He waits a few minutes. He must have passed her on his way in. He looks around, one eye following the other surveying the anachronistic landscape. He doesn’t look around but he does order a scotch and drinks it quickly while ordering three more. Harvey’s liquor intake has increased, he doesn’t really get drunk. The last time was a few weeks ago. He ended up raping some prostitute, an old one now that he remembers. He switles his fingers on the top of the open glass. A soft “Oov” sound is picked up.
Two- Face responds with a malevolent splash of, “She doesn’t owe us anything, why do we even keep seeing her. If we can’t screw her or skin her, what is the point.” Harvey’s thoughts border on those extremes and the in-betweens. He flips his coin. Tails: He’ll leave in the next 10 minutes if he doesn't find her... Then he see's her! This bullshit has gone on far too long, luckily for Selina, it has ended if ever so briefly. He wants to know why it's been so long since they've met. Selina has know Harv' for quite some time, longer than many people. Their relationship is hard to describe, since Dent is not psychologically capable of having one. He borders on hurting her and comforting her. But to say that is is a relationship would be to misread the situation entirely. He sits down in front of her in a fast paced manner, not saying high but just observing her aura. "Does Kitty always wear the nicest makeup for me?"