All Blues ( Summer Gleeson, Piper Hill )

[Deleted]

Cold. So cold.

The stars in the sky seem brighter than Judge Thompson has ever seen them... Maybe because the streetlights seem so washed-out and blue.

It's so cold. He can feel it penetrating his bones. His breathing is ragged and heavy. There's a sharp, terrible burning in his chest, but the rest of him... So cold. So cold that steam is rising from his icy chest.

Judge Thompson struggles to remember what happened. His eyes strain for context, for recognition of where he is. They flick up to catch the waving of an american flag, just above the statue of the lady Justice, blindfolded and bearing the Libra. 

The State Court of Appeals. Yes. That's familiar. He's spent every weekday for the last two decades in that courthouse. It looks strange for a moment, but then he realizes that it's upside-down. That's almost comical. He nearly laughs... But his lungs feel icy and heavy, and his diaphragm stiff, and so he doesn't. He seldom ever laughed in his life. He wasn't given to friovlity. 

Those stars in the sky... So late to be here. But then paperwork, and cases, and late ex parte meetings, and of course, calls from the great and good. He's never seen stars like this in Gotham, though. Never. They're so biting and clear and sharp. The statue of blind Themis herself clutches the handle of the scales like a cudgel, and its sharp tip points, upside-down, at the sky. Thompson hasn't stargazed since he was a boy, but the names of the constellations spring up, unbidden. Orion the Hunter stands on his head, his bow arm uselessly lowered, his blade arm pointing at Jupiter. No, not pointing... Reaching down over the edge of a cliff, towards Jovelight. Like the sistene chapel, a man reaching for a god... But a mockery in stick-figure lines on a black canvas, turned on its head.

Upside-down. Of course... That means he's lying in the street. In the gutter.

The cold... It seems to leave him all at once. He looks down... Just past his feet, his lovely old Packard, midnight blue... The hood up.

That was right. He was leaving work and it wouldn't start. He had opened the hood to see what was the matter, and then... That sound of metal clinking and tossing through the air... Someone flipping a coin.

Then, there was that sharp, terrible heat in his chest, like... like... There aren't words to describe it. Just terrible warmth, like boiling water was being poured through him.

Thompson's hand touches his chest where the boiling started. It comes away wet and red.

"Oh," he says softly.

"Yes," she says.

She helps him to his feet. It doesn't take as much as it used to... There's a certain lightness in the judge's step, like he's been burdened for years with a weight that sagged to the ground. He stands, his spine unbent, his posture good, the way he stood as a child. As if to impress her. She smiles on, softly, sadly.

Her skin is paler than ivory, paler than the moon, so pale that the starlight seems to dance along her shoulders and her neck. His eyes catch on the shining golden ankh between her breasts, the only thing separating the white from... Her tanktop, her jeans, her lipstick, her wild, flowing hair, her eyes, even that little, delicate eye-of-horus design under one of them, all blacker than soot. Blacker than midnight. As black as...

"... It can't be now. I had come so far. Any day, I was going to start... being happy."

She says nothing, but she loops her arm around his, holding him steady. He looks to her... his eyes lower to the ground, where his body lays at her feet, steam slowly rising from the bullethole in his chest.

"... Is this... Punishment for what I was doing? For Dent... For his cases?"

"It isn't punishment. This is just an ending. It's your time. I come to everyone, you know."

The judge isn't satisfied with that answer. It sits like something vile on his tongue. He looks up to her. "But... It wasn't enough. I could have finally done something. Been somebody."

"You were somebody," she says, voice sparkling with support. It glows so much that it breaks his flow... He feels the weight of his lifetime around him. The people whose lives he touched. All at once, he knows she's right. And yet...

"But I didn't get to be happy. Everybody else got..."

"You got what everybody else gets, your honor. You got a lifetime."

The pain fades away entirely... then the world starts to follow it. "And now it's time to go."

He smiles softly, just before his face fades away. "... I hope it's nice where I'm going."

She pulls him to her chest... And there is nothing, save for the sound, the gentle beating of mighty wings.

[Deleted]

Running through her routine of vocal warm-ups as her make-up artist finished the final touches on her make-up, the familiar excitement bubbled up inside her as it usually did seconds before she was to go on air. The story this evening was sure to mesmerize her large audience from the comfort of her home. Being the first to report this story before any other branch of media got their hands on it was always an accomplishment in its own – she only wished the topic might have been a bit lighter rather than the unpleasant truth she was forced to relay. Still, ratings would be through the roof as nearly all of Gotham City tuned in to hear about the dangers that posed in the city surrounding them

The beloved adrenaline had returned to her as she resumed her camera-worthy smile and prepared as the familiar theme music sounded through the studio. “Hello fellow Gothamites, and welcome back to Gotham Live, I’m Summer Gleeson with all your current and local happenings swirling around the city we all know and love.

Sal Maroni notorious former crime lord and now inmate residing in Blackgate Prison is attempting to appeal his sentence. After being put away for various felonies years ago by former District Attorney, Harvey Dent – who is now coined with the well-known alias Two-face, Maroni is now opening to reopen the case, claiming that Dent was mentally unbalanced during the conviction. What started as one simple appeal has now transformed into a class action lawsuit on behalf of all of Dents former convictions! Under advisal from Certain Prominent Members Of ,and following an unprecedented number of Amicus Curiae briefs, Presiding Justice Thompson and Associate Justices Alanis Moench and Douglas Moore overturned all of Dent's convictions.

Two weeks ago to the date – March 11th, our own Mayor Hill publically endorsed this decision, announcing the DA’s office refusal to follow up on the appeal and ordered the immediate release of every perpetrator that Dent had ever put behind bars!

However, ever since the release an ongoing stream of crime related to this decision has been popping up all over Gotham. Not even a week after, Alanis Moench was shot. Her current state is in the hospital and doctors say that she will make a full recovery and be left with only a matter of scars. Sal Maroni was found severely wounded in an alleyway two days later. Douglas Moore’s daughter, Anna Moore, and several others have gone missing. For more information and a list of names and descriptions, please access out website Gothamlive.org. Also, if you think you have any information on the whereabouts of these individuals, please contact the Gotham City Police Department as soon as possible.

This very morning around 4:12 a.m. Our own Judge Thompson was found dead. He was shot in the chest several times. Police recovered a security camera in the front of the court house that caught the entire tragedy on film. A man in a split-colored suit shot the Judge as he was leaving to return home for the evening. When asked for a statement from the Gotham City Police Department on the issue, Commissioner James Gordon refused to confirm what we all seem to be thinking. Is Dent bitter that the former inmates he had worked so hard to put away are now free men and his mental health is being questioned?

However, Mayor Hamilton Hill did make a statement, several in fact, informing the Gotham Live staff that he is working very closely with Gotham’s finest to put the suspected behind bars and recover the locations of those that continue to remain missing. After moments of conversation, Hill also reported that he has sought out the assistance of Black Cat Securities and the Gotham City Police Department in order to help increase the safety of his own home and take progressive steps toward resolving this reoccurring issue. Despite the noted pattern of tragedies, the Mayor seemed quite confident in the progress being made.

Judge Thompson’s funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon at 1 pm. Let’s all be sure to keep his family in our thoughts. “

While it was hard to remain so perky with this drastic information, she still sent another cheery smile into the direction of the camera before leading into the next round of commercials.

[Deleted]

"This is INSULTING, Captain! I'm a goddamn detective! Second-class! You can't-"

Captain Maggie Sawyer shoots Detective Renée Montoya a harsh look. "Montoya. Get a handle on it. We have a job that needs to be done and you're the best for it."

Nobody out harsh-looks Montoya, and she takes the opportunity to remind Maggie of that. "Bodyguarding the mayor's brat is a job for a uniform and you know it. This is below my damn pay grade!"

Sawyer raises an eyebrow and mutters, "Keep it up, we'll see."

"Dent is out there. Nobody knows him like I do, Maggie. The MCU needs me on-"

"The MCU needs to keep Mayor Hill happy. It needs to keep his little girl from being shot or kidnapped, which means it needs someone who knows Dent to keep her safe."

Montoya scowls. "Bullshit. Total rationalization."

"Hill wants a bodyguard. We cannot afford to be on his bad side any more than we already are, or he's going to cut funding. IA's already feeding him a line of crap about what Bullock did. We need his approval. So get his approval."

"Captain. I am a detective." Montoya takes a deep breath. "You think I don't know what this is about? You think I don't know what the elephant in the room is? This is about keeping me off the case. You think I can't separate my personal-"

"You're goddamn right, I don't, detective. I don't trust you on this case. City Hall doesn't trust you on this case. And you know what? Jim Gordon doesn't trust you on this case!"

Renée falls silent, fists balled around the lion-heads on the ends of the armrests of her chair, clearly bubbling with rage. The hallway outside the mayor's office stinks of wood polish, of carpet shampoo, of a thousand little luxuries the city can't afford. She should be on the streets right now. She should be anywhere but here, about to be a bullet-sponge for a spoiled rich brat.

Renée forces herself to calm down, to release her fists. "Captain," she starts. Then she softens. "Maggie," she says. "This isn't right. Put me on a leave of absence, if you-"

"You'd be playing PD within ten minutes. Renée... This is out of my hands, alright?" Sawyer looks away. "I agree with this decision. And I'm damn sure if you go out there without backup, you're going to end up face to face with Dent, and either you're going to be kidnapped or he's going to be dead. I don't like either outcome of that situation. But even if I didn't agree with this... This is Gordon, Renée. He assigned you this one. Personally." 

Sympathetically, Maggie turns her head to look at Renée. "You're good police, Renée. One of my best. This is just temporary. We'll get Dent behind bars and it'll all be over, and Hill'll sign our paychecks, and you can get back to logging overtime on some other freak. Just lay off this one. Think of it as downtime."

Their eyes meet... And in an instant, there's a flash of communication between the two.

Sawyer knows Renée isn't going to leave it at that. And Renée knows she knows.

There's no more time to talk about it, though. (Not that Renée even would. She's not going to get permission, so it's better not to ask and be refused.) The broad oak-paneled door swings open and the mayor's aide escorts out the widow Thompson, bitter-faced and tight-shouldered in her black dress and veil. She doesn't even look at Montoya and Sawyer. Sawyer looks like she's about to speak, but Montoya touches the captain's hand and shakes her head. "Gotham," she mouths. It ain't like Metropolis here. Sympathy from a cop ain't shit to the great and good around here. Sawyer's a good captain, but there's still a lot for her to learn about her new beat.

The aide looks to the two and nods at them. "The Mayor's ready for you."

They waste no time in entering. Inside, Mayor Hill is leaning on the front of his solid-oak desk, golden pen in his fingers, having an unspoken conversation with Piper.

"Mister Mayor," Sawyer starts. "It's a pleasure to see you again. May I present to you Detective Renée Montoya of Major Crimes. She's been assigned to protect your daughter."

[Deleted]

For once, Piper sat in her assigned seat, saying nothing. The red-head news woman that she had grown to hate over the past few months was speaking in the background in regards to the events that had just recently passed. The Mayor rubbed his temples after spending the past hour consoling the grieving widow, only wishing with each passing minute that she would leave and vacate to a much more appropriate location than his office. Still, it was his professional responsibility to show his remorse. After all, Judge Thompson had been a dear friend growing up whose ambition only rivaled his own. It was a tragedy to say the least, but Hamilton knew that the worst was yet to come.

Somewhat sullen as he glanced toward his daughter, he silenced her as she opened her mouth to speak. “Just- stop taking Piper. Not right now. Don’t argue, don’t fuss. Dent is a dangerous man; I will not have you wildly traipsing around the city unprotected. You are old enough to understand that our protection is a necessity at the moment." With a roll of her eyes she opened her mouth to speak once more, despite her father’s wishes. Anger boiled inside the man as she grabbed an aggressive handful of his white hair before glaring daggers down at the girl. Just as soon as she had opened her mouth she shut it once more, stubbornly folding her arms across her chest as she pouted from her chair.

He sighed as he straightened his black-rimmed glasses, only standing up straight when he noticed another presence in the room. Despite his lack of emotion toward the situation, he himself was grieving the loss of his dear friend as well as having to deal with the repercussions of the multiple murders. Sending another stern look in the direction of his daughter, he managed a charming smile before moving to shake hands with the Captain. "And you as well, I must thank you once more for the efforts you have gone to in order to make these arrangements, Captain.” After leaving the man with a very firm handshake, he extended his hand to the detective before him.

“I believe a rather big ‘thank you’ is in order to you as well. I have been informed that I am leaving my daughter in the best of hands, detective.” Piper released a loud scoff from the background, as well as a roll of her pretty blue eyes. Abandoning his cheery disposition for a brief moment, he sent another stern look in the direction of his disobedient daughter. “This is obviously my daughter, Piper. She’s taking the death of a dear family friend very hard; you will have to excuse her attitude.” He informed the pair in a hushed tone.

“I’m fine. Actually, I want to get the hell out of here.” She stood and smoothed her skirt as she stood from her chair, glaring at her father as she passed, storming out of the office without even another word. The mayor stifled a groan before looking toward the Detective in all seriousness. “There is a town car outside that has direct orders to drive straight back to my residence. I must….apologize for my daughter’s future actions now, but I must insist that you do not let her leave our home by any means necessary.” He tugged at his designer jacket, almost in a fidgety manner. “As I have said a hundred times before – Hill Manor is the safest place in the entire city.” While he had used that line before, the confidence in his voice clearly wavered with the statement.

mayor: silver
piper: white

[Deleted]

Montoya is about as tight-lipped as Piper is... And for very similar reasons. The only difference is that she's far, far better at shooting looks than Captain Sawyer, and both of them know it, so the Captain doesn't even bother trying it.

Instead, the Captain busies herself with platitudes; "Here to serve," "For your loss," "Deepest condolences" and the like. Renée, on the other hand, takes a second to size up Piper.

If they've met before, Renée doesn't remember it happening, but it's probable they have... And, of course, Piper's reputation precedes her. She's been in the papers, and Renée gets her papers early enough in the morning that hers actually came with the photospread of Miss Hill's debut into scandal. Oh, yes, that one got stamped out quickly. Just not fast enough.

Yeah. She's got a reputation. Not that her name is usually attached- No, "The Mayor's Brat" is more common. And that's about the most charitable one.

She's not hard to read. The girl's a stunner, but she's not exactly trying to be subtle about her take on all this, not with her long, tan arms held folded into a thorny shield, her full, rosy lips in an overdramatic pout, those heartstopping ice-blue eyes full to the brim with mocking disdain, sharp as a pitchfork in the back. She's furious.

Like she has any right to be. Spoiled little civilian is upset that strings are being pulled for her? That just pisses Renée off even more.

But not as much as what comes next.

Renée's eyes snap open with shock when Hill says "by any means necessary." Her anger bubbles over, and she's about to speak, but she catches Captain Sawyer out of the corner of her eye. Hill continues, fidgeting... And she winces. She recognizes how unsure he is.

Man that nervous is liable to do anything.

With a practiced air, Renée forces her face into a faint scowl with a hard brow, which is a marked step above the uncontrolled bonesmashing fury she really wants to release into the world. "Your Honor," she says, curtly... And that's all she says before rushing out of the room.

The door closes behind her and Renée breathes in sharply. The job. Focus on the job. Focus on orders. Focus on...

Yeah, that's not working. But she can focus on the anger. That's a place to start, at least.

It's only then that she realizes what Piper said. "The hell out of..." Renée says, sharply looking left and right.

Oh, no. Nooo, no no. She can't have. DON'T let her have rabbited in the ten seconds it took Mayor Hill to be a paranoid idiot.

[Deleted]

With many promises and plans now ruined by her father’s paranoia, the blonde was more than eager to leave the stuffy office and proceed to – well, she wasn’t exactly sure where she as going. Shoving her hands in pockets of her high-waisted jean shorts she started quickly toward the exit. Not leaving much to the imagination as far as her escape route was concerned, Piper was prepared to simply march out the front door and down the street. Without a single credit card on her purse, she wasn’t exactly prepared to strut out into the city with no way of getting home and her phone charging in the car that the group was supposed to take back to Hill Manor.

Fuming, her heels clicked loudly across the tiled floors as she pushed open the doors. Several members of security looked at each other warily, unsure if they should be allowing their heated boss’s daughter to simply leave unannounced. “Miss. Hill?” One of them called after her timidly, but she brushed them off and started toward the exit once more.

Though she is very aware of the footsteps following her of the unsure security guards, she hears the male’s voice call out to her once more, but she simply replies by flipping him off. Piper wanted nothing more than to scream, kick and throw an absolute fit, though even she was smart enough to know that doing so in such a public area would be a field day for the press. Speaking of which, the moment she opens the door, the young blonde is practically ambushed by questions and flashing lights.

Not even bothering to shield her eyes, she rolls them instead. The group could not have encountered her at a worse time. Half tempted to take of her shoe and chuck it in the direction of the nearest camera, Piper instead stands in the doorway, unable to find a proper path through the crowd. Perfect. Once the young woman realizes she is trapped, the annoyance only seems to multiply.

The press continues to ask the silent blonde questions about whether she feels she is in danger, comments on the lost lives and even questions as outlandish as to what she was doing at the time of the murder. Honestly? She was probably passed out at her favorite club and they probably had the pictures to prove it.

piper is wearing this