Building Rome in a day [Harvey-Two Face, closed]

[Deleted]

Carmine walked through the dirty streets of Gotham along the docks. The foul smell of the polluted water offended his nose, but where he was headed there would be good smells to cover it up. "Gazzo kept him on the protection list right?" He asked Milos.

"Of course boss, just like you said. No taxes neither," Milos answered.

Carmine nodded and smiled a bit as he rounded a corner and finally saw the restaurant he had been looking for. Giancarlo's, it proclaimed on a faded green awning over the door. In each window it proudly advertised the homemade pasta, secret-recipe meatballs, and most importantly the Sugo al Cinghiale. Carmine was particularly proud of that. He had taught Giancarlo his mother's recipe for boar ragu years ago, in exchange for learning the man's heavenly tomato sauce recipe. 

"Do you think he'll be excited to see me?" Falcone asked Milos, but Milos could only smirk.

"The man is 78 years old boss, I doubt he'll be able to see you at all."

Carmine laughed. Giancarlo was a man who never seemed to die or age. Bald, sharp eyed, and with a booming voice, Carmine remembered the man moving as though he were half the age he really was.

They entered the building and Carmine's other bodyguard stationed himself by the door. Carmine and Milos entered the building. "Giancarlo," Carmine called out as he enjoyed the wafting smell of fresh Italian food made just the way he had come to appreciate before moving abroad.

A stooped old man came out from the kitchen doors, "Who da' hell is making all dat noise?" He demanded in a strong voice. He blinked several times when he saw Carmine, "Mr. Falcone?" He asked. Carmine smiled widely and walked up to embrace the old man.

"Giancarlo, I've told you a hundred times, it's Carmine." He said as they released one another.

"And I've told you a hundred and one times, my benefactor is Mr. Falcone. I have respect still, not like dese damned kinders wandering da streets."

Carmine laughed, "Tell me about it. How have you been?"

"You know me, I nevah change," Giancarlo said as he shuffled over to grab a menu, "I know you don't like to read da menu, but I've made a few modifications. Look it ovah." He paused, "Mr. Falcone da chef's table is full of prep right now. It's in no state to be seen by da likes of you."

Falcone patted the old man on the shoulder and sat down at the closest table, "As long as the foods good I'll eat it anywhere. Hell, I'll eat it out of the back of a truck. Thank you Giancarlo."

Giancarlo started moving towards the back, "I'll bang out a plate of steamed mussels to keep you satisfied while I make what you're wantin'."

Carmine nodded and when the pretty, young waitress brought out his plate of mussels he gave her a crisp fifty. She smiled and thanked him, but he kept a firm hand on the bill, "You split this with Giancarlo, you hear?"

She looked askew at him for a moment, but finally relented with a pout and he let her have the money while he turned to the mussels and prepared for a meal he had waited five years to have.

[Deleted]

“He’s a man’s man, a gangster’s gangster. He’s the one, the only, Carmine! You want to be around Carmine! You never want to leave your house without a Carmine!” sang Two-face in his usual tenor range, watching Carmine Falcone enter the restaurant. The face fit the crime for Carmine. He used to be known as one of Gotham’s finest mobsters. Dangerous, persuasive, and charming. This was the man who Harvey tracked, traced, captured, and prosecuted. He was the organizer of chaos, the bringer of doom and the anvil of deceit and malice. This was the man who made Harvey who he was. One one side, heads, he was able to forever disfigure the once and all good looking god in Gotham. Then, as Dent flipped his coin (tails), he brought to light the duality that Harvey often shielded from view. The indecisive ticks and the anger were put to good use and form. Things were black and white, most things. Everyone had a choice to act on something or to go in a different direction. The choices that one makes adds up the luck that that person has. Harvey had an uphill battle with luck. It placed him in his cell for six years, he had recently escaped a few days ago. His empire absorbed by the few crime bosses, his contracts taken by The Penguin, and his drug lords and henchman imprisoned or killed. This was the life he was given and this was the life he made.

His footsteps clicked in the dark, twelve o’clock was the time on his watch as he approached the guard outside the restaurant of sorts. Harvey was wearing a black hat, grey suit (not stripped). He didn’t have time to get a new suit, but he would tomorrow. He was back in Gotham after six long years. He had spent some time thinking, reading up on the current political process. Harvey always stayed active in being up to date on the general political geography. He even wrote down notes and insights into recent court decisions. He spent two years beating and destroying himself, breaking the legs of three guards and being sent to solitary for a year. He had spent times cursing out the inmates beside him when the coin landed on that one. He survived because of the coin, the coin was his fate. As he approached the guard, he was silent, calm and teemingly excited to meet his old pal “Carmine”.

Harvey began to walk into the entrance when the guard stopped him, half of Harvey’s face guarded in the darkness. “Excuse me sir, but I’m afraid no more customers will be allowed in, the restaurant is serving it’s last customers” said the young guard, muscled and confident to get rid of the intruder in front of him, even if he did have impeccable taste in a 1940’s noir deceptive kind of way. The voice that answered back had thought about the response, it sounded like two people but softy, “Carmine Falcone was never a man to keep another waiting, especially one with close ties.” The guard was cautious and slowly reached for his gun, “Shooting an unarmed man is first degree murder, there are people inside who will hear the gunshot, you’ll be in jail in front of a district court judge who would rather see you injecting yourself with morphine and heroin than walking the streets.” The man did stop, but he insisted, “Are you threatening me!? Listen man get out of here before I kill you”. Within seconds a coin flipped, “That’s not for you to decide, that’s the coin’s job. Heads, I leave - tails you go in there and tell all the other customers, except your boss, to leave now.” The man was perplexed, why the hell should he believe the man? But he figured give it a shot, beside luck will be on his side. “Ok” said the man. Looking at the coin, the outside lamp illuminated the scratched up tails side of the coin. Harvey smiled now stepping into the light, showing his full face grim and darker than six years ago. He said while smirking in a dark low tone, “ The people rest your honor!”. The man looked, wide eyed, to Dent’s hand which was holding a gun, he immediately grabbed his gun but was struck in the shoulder and leg. He screamed in pain, the few people inside likely hearing it. “Now get moving!” screamed Two-face. The man limped and then crawled to the inside of the restaurant, he shouted for everyone to leave, people screamed and ran out, brushing past Harvey, as he walked into the restaurant. Waiters were leaving as the remaining people left.


The guard limped over to where Carmine was sitting, his meal had just been delivered. There was blood seeping into the carpet and parts of the floor, some tears from his eyes strolled down as he grabbed Carmine’s chair and tried getting up. Two-face was standing, gun completely hidden, admiring the scene. The young man spoke in a chill and stutter, “It’s…a-an… o-o-old fr..-ie..nd. H-Here to-“ Harvey interjected now completely face to face with the man who ruined and saved his life. “Stay and talk some business. Carmine old friend, lover and fighter, defender of the city, villain to thy enemies!” Two-face’s signature laugh, dark and completely terrifying and oddly intoxicating echoed the room. He sat down and said, “I’ll have a scotch” to the waitress cowering under the table.

[Deleted]

Carmine started at the sound of gunfire, turning his head towards the door as his bodyguard stumbled in. Behind him was a familiar face. Carmine stared into the eyes of his onetime nemesis. Harvey Dent had nearly brought the Roman Empire to its knees, but Carmine had, as usual, outsmarted his opponent. He frowned and watched his bodyguard spasm on the ground.

"Milos," he said wearily after hearing Dent greet him, "Get on the phone and get someone down here to clean this mess up." He watched the panicked young waitress move towards the restaurant bar for a moment. Carmine had a practiced way of showing his contempt, which included making his opponent know exactly how little he cared for their valuable time.

He turned his bright blue eyes on Harvey Dent, answering him now that Carmine's own business was being addressed. "Mr. Dent. Or do you prefer to append the esquire? I never found out when you tried to end my business interests those years ago."

He pushed away his partially eaten mussels and gestured to the chair across from him. "If you're going to have a drink you might as well take a seat. Eat, if you want. I won't be having any more. I never make deals over a meal, it softens the mind as easily as it softens the body the next day."

Giancarlo had run out from the back of the kitchen, and Carmine took advantage of his presence to say "Giancarlo, cancel the coniglio. I've lost my appetite." He fixed Dent with a cold stare, "actually Giancarlo..." he broke eye contact to look at his old friend, "Pack it up and give it to Milos, Mr. Dent will be wanting take out."

Milos moved towards the door of the kitchen and let Giancarlo through the door before he stood in front of it to wait for the food. Carmine once again looked at Dent. "Harvey, it's been a very long time. You're looking...surprisingly symmetrical. Arkham did you good."

To an onlooker it would seem as though Carmine were awfully calm given the predicament, but he had faced Dent before and won, and that time he hadn't had Milos nearby.

[Deleted]

He took in all Carmine had to offer: which wasn’t much. The man was eating mussels, lavishing himself in all his glory. Pathetic. What a piece of garbage scum he was, looking older than usual, dressing in his pretentious manner and believing himself to be better than everyone else. Only Dent could pull that off well, but tonight he didn’t have the resources to do that. That wasn’t the purpose of meeting with banana scum like Carmine. The name Carmine so infuriated Dent, that he’d often set something on fire or beat one of his girls so severely that she had to to be taken to a hospital every so month. The whole Falcone and Maroni family pissed him off. They had to prove through extraordinary extravagant practices how powerful they were. And often, they would be cut down by their own lies and secrets. Horredous fishy family, that would soon pay swiftly for the damage they’ve caused.

Dent took a sit, a comfortable chair with a pink cushion on it. The finer more material things. He appreciated those when the time suited him. This was one of those times. The comment about Harvey being symmetrical was weak, considering that Falcone himself looked asymmetrical, off and physically weak. “I’ve seen you’ve gained some weight, too much fried chicken in your diet at Blackgate and not enough exercise, huh?” He smirked, what a chump sitting across from him.

The red haired girl came back with the scotch, her hands shaking. Harvey handed her a twenty and she quickly left. He drank the scotch staring down Falcone. It was good scotch, burned the throat but reminded him of the pain he suffered at the monster across. He flipped his coin. Two-face’s fists slowly clenched, his venom coursing, shooting out of his eyes, “The people of the court decided to give me six long years in Arkham. I thought, I got back into the groove of things, I worked. Each day I remembered how you did it. Why you did it. I thought about how you planned it and the court system that allowed you to do it.” He flipped his coin again. “The final statement that the prosecution makes at the moment is, is that you didn’t get a fair trial. You had it easy, your high-powered lawyer wasn’t good enough to take me down, your thugs couldn’t and didn’t intimidate me or scare me by ransacking my house and robbing my friends. You didn’t hurt me by burning down an apartment building next to my home. I’m here to thank you, in person, for showing me the mere bones of life”. Harvey’s third coin flip ended with Dent’s gun barrel on the table pointed at Falcone’s stomach.

He sighed and laughed again, “I do have a proposition for you.”

[Deleted]

Carmine could sense Dent's rage. Truly the man had lost his old ways, even though he seemed to believe he was still the same old Hero of Gotham. A Bat in shining armor. Carmine frowned and kept his eyes on Harvey as the sat down and started talking.

The jab at Carmine's weight was below the belt, but when two men hated each other as much as they such things were to be expected. Carmine had taken his own shots, after all. Still, he couldn't resist, "Well I was well taken care of in Blackgate. A different kind of care than you received at Arkham though, I think. Mine was a bit less focused on talking to doctors and a bit more focused on drinking fine cognacs."

He watched Dent take the scotch. At least the man was good enough to tip the girl for her troubles. She wasn't a part of this, and didn't deserve to suffer for it. Dent ranted for a few minutes about the troubles of the justice system, Arkham, and finally their long rivalry. "Funny, I remember sending my army after you. It's true what you say, the men weren't very effective. A bumbling lawyer that I've fired, useless soldiers who have long since drifted away towards lesser organizations that are more suited to their petty skillsets." He leaned in to Dent, staring into the man's wide, dead, damaged eye, "That's why I came after you myself, Dent. Quite an honor for you, and look, I pulled it off. I showed you the bones of life and now all of the skeletons in your closet are out in the open. Gotham's hero, brought low."

Carmine had no fear of guns. He had been shot before, and likely would again. He was confident that the only things capable of taking him down were age or a freak in a costume, and today Dent hadn't brought his costume.

He leaned back, expecting a loud tantrum from the man, but instead Dent just laughed and spoke again. "A proposition? Well isn't this a nice change. The last time you wanted a deal I was in cuffs and you were inches away from taking down me, the Maroni, and even the Sicilians. What's your deal, Dent?"

[Deleted]

The thought of Carmine Falcone, a once former kingpin, doing the grunt work for the real power in Gotham’s criminal underworld made him smile. This was the man who had set up the crime families, he had been manipulative and he had left his mark. However, he was too old. Age the bringer of death was going to be knocking on his door soon. Luck and fate had kept Harvey alive, there was no other explanation. The choices that were chosen advanced his well-being as a criminal mastermind. But he wanted more than that, he had more left in him. He was healthier than he was six years ago, he had refocused on his own powers and gathered his strength. It was now about getting the resources to make things change. Dent licked his lips and brushed off the counter-comments.

Small talk, the man didn’t have the balls to usher in a new era of criminal dominance. The era of the mob and the Penguin regime is over, Two-Face’s power back into the crown has just begun. Every journey starts with a deal, a proposal, or an ultimatum. Harvey glanced around, the silence helped him think and react to how Carmine would react. “The criminal underworld in Gotham has been around for ten or so years. It’s been the Penguin and the mob controlling everything. Their reign of terror may have been something then, but it has overstated it’s welcome.

“I’ll give you the chance to regain what you so desperately hope to achieve within the next few months: Your image as the dominant crime boss pulling the strings around the city. Ultimate power and contracts could be yours. That’s if fate believes in you.” Two-face finished his scotch and looked around for the fat man who was running the restaurant. “Hey Fatso! Get over here!” screamed Two-Face. Giancarlo, nervous to come over hesitated and then ran over quickly, “What can I do for your sir?” asked Giancarlo. Harvey thought for a minute, did he want dinner or another scotch. He flipped his coin, it landed on tails: scotch it was. “Give me another scotch in two minutes exactly” spoke Dent. Giancarlo bowed and rushed over to the bar to get the drink. Dent studied and tilted his head to the right a bit before going back. Carmine Falcone, the man with everything, vulnerable and without backup for at least ten minutes.

“The deal is contingent on one thing… that you're alive.” said Harvey. He was milking the suspense, Carmine would feel the fear slowly seep. Harvey had the best shot for a disfigured criminal. Second only to Deadshot. He could have blown away Carmine as soon as he sat down, finished his drink and walked away. That would be easy, but that would be taking fate into his own hands. Every man had a choice, a set of options to hang or free himself. He licked his lips and adjusted his gun somewhat to the left, just to get a good shot of the heart and jugular if fate spoke. “Heads, you live and you must accept the deal regardless of what it is. Tails, you die” smirked Harvey.

He flipped the coin.

[Deleted]

Carmine sighed. Well laid plans all ruined because Arkham couldn't keep one lawyer within its walls. He waited for the deal. Terms, conditions, a contract, anything really. Instead Dent insisted on another scotch, and from poor Giancarlo.

"Dent, if you're going to shoot up a man's restaurant at least have the decency to let him go home and pour your own scotch."

Then Harvey started talking about this deal again. Carmine kept his mouth shut, but he still didn't know what terms this deal was supposed to have. What was he saying yes to? What was he being asked to give up? Carmine had never been a fan of deals with conditions he didn't know about, but anything to stall the thug in front of him long enough for his men to show up.

He knew for sure that there would be no more wandering the streets relatively unattended. Clearly his presence in Gotham had been noted and his old enemies weren't ready to leave bygones in the past.

Finally, Dent presented him with a condition. Not one that struck him as particularly sensible, or particularly well thought out. Who makes decisions based on a coin flip?

He watched the coin rise into the air and wondered for a moment if he should reach out and try to snatch it from the air. See how Dent responds to situations without his precious decision maker. It's not as though the terms of the flip in any way benefited him to begin with. Still, it was probably better to avoid provoking an insane criminal who had a gun pointed at Carmine's belly, so he waited staring into Dent's cold eyes as he waited for the man to snatch at the coin.

"Well?" He asked when Dent caught the shining metal piece.

[Deleted]

The ringing sound the coin made as it came back into Two-Face’s hand made him smile. This was a man’s only compass. Giancarlo immediately came back with the drink and put a napkin underneath. Then he spoke, “Mr—-“. “Dent” said Two-Face. “Mr. Dent, would that be everything that you’s require?” whispered Giancarlo, hoping that he would wake up from the nightmare. Harvey thought for a minute. Harvey liked raising the stakes a bit each time he flipped the coin, but he didn’t know the outcome yet. He looked at the coin. It was heads, Fate must have required Falcone to be useful alive, rather than decompose in the ground. “It’s your lucky day Carmine, old pal, Fate has spoken.” Harvey showed him the coin. Harvey put the gun in his pocket, ending the stalemate for the forceable future. “Since you’ve been spared… you’ll be put to good use. I have a few loose ends to tie up before I can start focusing on my empire. You’ve heard of the deaths of few members of the justice and police department, including Judge Thomas. Those were not freak accidents, that was justice carried out by me. You will help me tie up the final ends on the knot that was so undone. The same knot that further tarnished my legal record and allowed scum like you to walk.”

Giancarlo still stood, hesitant to leave but clearly getting more annoyed. The guard whom Two-face had shot was still bleeding, he was panting a bit. “Giancarlo go get a towel and some ice for the rat bleeding out on the ground. Be back in thirty seconds or I’ll burn the place to the ground and Mr. Falcone with it.” threatened Dent. Giancarlo was gone as soon as Dent looked over. The man worked fast, he could use someone like that, a good cook and listener. Double rare.

“Carmine, you will get close to Mayor Hill’s daughter Piper. She’s a free spirited, rule-breaking, feisty little girl. You’ll get close to the Mayor and win his trust as well. Once you get close to the family, you will bag Piper and bring her to your warehouse, which as we speak is being ransacked through. Then you’ll leave the rest up to me. This, if executed well, will take five months.” Harvey spoke in a low tone, using his fingers for added gravitas and important visual cues. “Complete this task and you’ll have my resources useful for bringing you back into the table. I’ll put you in charge of advising the crime families. You’ll have an apartment or a few houses across Gotham. You’ll have access to money and deals and potential drug companies that we’re targeting.”


Giancarlo came rushing back, half a second late. He bandaged the guard who was no silent,clattering his teeth and looking at Carmine every now and then, as if pleading for a gun to shoot Two-face or shoot himself to put him out of his misery. Harvey finished the scotch and his vision blurred for a minute and then returned to normal. “Failure to comply with this or any other order that I give you in this five month period, will result in severe-severe blows to you, your family, your friends like Giancarlo, and anyone you hold dear…including your dick.”. Harvey was clear to intimidate the man who was so called “intimidation-proof”. Bullshit, everyone had a certain amount of steeliness until the shit truly hit the fan.

Giancarlo was about to turn away, planning on closing up the shop, when Harvey interjected “Giancarlo, did that redhead leave?”. Giancarlo swallowed hard, “Lexi? Ah No! No sir!” said Giancarlo who was laughing while breathing hard, “Lexi was just packing up”. Two-face flipped a coin, the coin flickering in the light and landed in his hand- tails. “Go get her now, I don’t care if she tries leaving, grab her and bring her over here or I’ll kill Mr. Falcone.”

Lexi was brought over as soon as she could, at first she was saying things like, “Get your fucking hands off of me, Giancarlo I don’t want to go! I need to get out of here, this guys a freak!” Lexi was a twenty-two year old redhead. Harvey seemed to always like a redhead, they were good at sex and being feisty, he liked those things. Giancarlo stopped her right in front of Dent, she had stopped resisting, but she refused to look Dent in the eyes. She had beautiful eyes, “My name’s Harvey, Harvey Dent. I’m very glad to have met you Lexi. You’re beautiful, isn’t she gorgeous Carmine?” said Harvey, he was charming and she felt it, she felt it instinctually and even though she was terrified of what he could do to her, that was a kindness and a fondness that not many people had shown her. She had hazel eyes and those flickered to Carmine and then to Dent. “What do you want with me Mr. Dent!?” angrily said Lexi.

[Deleted]

Carmine pursed his lips as he listened to Dent ramble onwards. He didn't know what empire Dent was referring to, since the man had thus far robbed all of six banks before getting shoved into an asylum, but he would play along. It didn't sound like Dent was going to ask him to do anything he wasn't already planning, and if the man did the issue could be dealt with then.

"I've got a home here, thank you," he told Dent, "but I'm sure the rest will be fine."

He wasn't sure why Dent thought he wasn't already at "the table." Carmine Falcone did not come back to Gotham because he wanted to build from nothing. He was in the city because he already had his resources and all that was necessary was martialling them. Perhaps Dent realized this. It would explain why he had come to his old nemesis instead of one of the other crime lords that suited the man's more thuggish ways.

He watched carefully as Dent interacted with the girl Lexi. He shot a significant look to Giancarlo before answering, "Yes, there are many girls in the city like her," he said pointedly. "Lexi," he said and turned to her, "It's inappropriate to address a man when he's talking business. You're the help. Giancarlo should take some time to teach you that."

He turned back to Harvey, "So do we have a deal Dent? Am I free to return to what should have been the best meal since I got back in town?"

[Deleted]

The eyes that charmed Carmine Falcone turned to a solid fire as he stared at him. What putrid pile of dog shit believes that he himself is the best that he can be. Everyone in this city believed that they had the resources, the skills, the ethics to pull of any crime. From blowing up bridges to releasing toxin into a supermarket. Every criminal or “hero” believed that they were sufficient in playing “the game”. They refused to ever question the fact that they would fail many times. Dent believed this, but he didn’t air it outloud. Carmine’s fluff and manners were put on, a mirage to entice the brainless folk of gotham to help him. Justice’s hand’s could find the fault. The fault that shot Hubris to Carmine’s chest. The coin that Dent had flipped into the air. Heads. The gun that was in Dent’s hand fired, a contained flash echoed out (like a large door being slammed), the bullet in lodged itself into Falcone’s shoulder. Blood splattered on Lexi’s leg and Falcone’s neck.

Dent’s smile cracked a bit. He turned to Lexi and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer. “Lexi, you know where the oil tanks are, turn them on and grab some oil used for fuel and begin to pour a ring around the entire restaurant.” Lexi stood there and at first was about to say no, but the man had just shot the other. Negotiating with terrorists was the only thing she could do. However, that didn’t stop her from quipping, “Am I going to get paid for this?” Dent said nothing but nodded. She left and did as he asked, Giancarlo realizing what was about to happen.

Dent looked at Mr. Falcone who was standing his ground but still holding back the pain. The man was unarmed, never a good move, especially for a “crime boss”. That meant that Falcone was unprepared and not organized, if this man was going to run Gotham without a gun, he’d be the fastest criminal captured, tried, and executed since Arnie Stamos.

“Carmine, we’re old pals, you and me. Then and now. But Justice see’s through you, and so do I. Enough with the old games. This is a new decade, with new rules. The players are getting weak, and if you still want to be taken seriously as a “threat” to the world that doesn’t seem you so, I have some advice..” Dent’s voice became louder and he got out of his chair, his face red,”CUT THE BULLSHIT ACT OUT. YOU’RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE.” screamed Two-face. A few deep breaths past, he hadn’t gotten that angry since yesterday when his thugs killed an innocent child. Of course those thugs were dealt with. Bullets in the balls and sent into the ocean. Thugs are like fish, even salmon, sometimes the fish you catch isn’t tasty enough.

Lexi’s trail of gasoline and oil fluid made a trail from the kitchen and the glorious tile work leading to Dent’s table. Giancarlo came rushing toward Dent, “Mr. Dent I’ya don’t understand!? I did as you asked, what’s the big problema!”. He listened and finished his scotch. Lexi came back with a large box of scotch. “I thought this might be useful, but I’d like to keep it if you don’t mind?” Dent turned and looked at it. His favorite Scotch was in there. “You’ll be drinking a lot of that when we get back to the House.” Lexi’s eyes widened and she glanced at both Giancarlo and Carmine, respectively. “Y-you’re house! I’m not going to your house! Look Mr. Dent I’m fed up with my job here! First of all, I work for minimum wage and I do some of the cooking as well!..” Angrily glances at Giancarlo who returned the favor.” Dent puts his gun up and fires it. “This is not for discussion.” Lexi was quiet and sulked. Dent turned and leaned in closer to Mr. Falcone. “In order to prove to me that you aren’t old, senile, nor retarded, you’ll do one thing for me.” Dent took out a lighter and his cigar. He lit his cigar, and then he closed the lighter, placing it infront of Carmine. “Light the fuse.”

[Deleted]

Carmine's eyes widened as he felt the impact of the bullet. It didn't hurt, exactly. Not the bullet itself, anyway. His back snapping into the back of his chair stung harshly, but all he felt in his shoulder was a moment of hot, white heat and then a dull aching, as though the joint were sore.

Milos immediately responded by pulling his gun on Dent and waiting for him to let let the waitress girl go. Dent paid no attention to Milos as he instructed the girl and then sent her on her way, and as soon as she pulled out of his grip the bodyguard opened fire in response. He was a good shot, quite accurate with his weapons.

Carmine, meanwhile, felt shock settling in as his shoulder oozed out dark blood. He sneered at the waitress as she demanded pay. Things felt as though they were slowing down a bit. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the oil, and watched as the girl slowly carted the gas Giancarlo kept in the back so that stranded motorists could get out of the bad part of town before dark.

Finally, he focused on Harvey Dent. The man said a bunch of syllables that Carmine couldn't comprehend, then finally, "You'll do one thing for me. Light the fuse."

Carmine stared for a moment at the lighter, then up at Dent. His glazed eyes focused and his tunnel vision started to clear. "Light the fuse? What fuse? There's just a puddle of gas at my feet."

He closed his eyes as he felt the first pang of real pain in his shoulder. He was coming back, it seemed. "Are you sure you're not the one who's senile, Dent? You want me to light a building on fire while you're standing in it? Besides, aren't you supposed to flip your damned coin before doing this? I count two decisions, and one flip."

[Deleted]

Carmine Falcone, a man with so much class and sense of entitlement that even he couldn’t escape his own sense of style and facade. The magician has begun giving in to delusion, and although some of his psychological evaluations likely said the same, Harvey was different. He wasn’t delusional, anyone going through the pain of having your entire career, life, opportunity taken away from you would understand. But in this world, the peasants never understand. They want to be helped personally. They don’t care about this city lacks Empathy. Without Empathy Justice makes impromptu decisions. Empathy led him to this path, luck has led him out of it. Empathy is a fragrance or a Hallmark idea designed to ease people. As soon as the shot went out, Harvey looks down to see the wounded guard fire at Lexi. Without hesitation he grabbed the gun and kicked him in the gut 14 times. Milos spit out some blood on Harvey’s shoes. Harvey hit him two more times. Vermin. Like Lex Luthor, Dent believed that all people were vermin, that everyone was a tool. Some tools overstay their welcome and this guard was bound to do the same.

Milos was in pain and started moaning, Dent grabbed the gun that Milos had and put it on the table. He was far from pleased and Carmine would pay. Maybe not at this moment but he would in the next day or so. Insolence would not be tolerated, the world has no time for insolance, pity, empathy, and peace. Hostility was the true nature of things. Hostility brings out both light and dark outcomes. He would deal with this guard in a minute. His lips curled and his face which was cool showed some signs of anger and tiredness. But instead of letting that out and risking making himself a tool, he laughed. His laugh signaled to both Carmine and Giancarlo that their decision making was over. Their lives would be changed from now on. “Carmine, Carmine, Carmine. I’m impressed that your learning since our last meeting, but you have forgotten one thing.” He bent down and picked up the guard by his shirt and slammed him on the table which cracked slightly. The man had black marks everywhere.

“Chance was not done with me when you killed Harvey Dent.” He grabbed the man by the throat and squeezed so hard that gasping couldn’t do enough. He turned to Giancarlo, “Fatso, give me a fork.” Giancarlo grabbed a fork and pleaded at his old pal Carmine. His store was going to be ruined, he would be ruined with it. His reputation spent, no tools to rebuild no money. Giancarlo handed Two-face the fork. “I.” Dent put the fork into the bullet wounds and prodded a bit. “Own.” He continued to do that as the man gasped as Dent went a bit further. “THIS CITY”. He released his grip as the blood began mixing with the oil. Lexi who was shot in the leg had lost the scotch since she felt to the ground. Giancarlo was crying and panicking but could do absolutely nothing. A demon had entered his shop, an angel of the worst kind of fortune. Harvey was no doctor but this man was going to bleed to death in at least fifteen minutes.

The man as soon as he was released flipped his legs and looked at Carmine, stunned and emotionally scarred, he then fell to the ground face first, expired waiting for death. Dent’s hands were only semi-bloody, he liked that. Gave him standing. He cleared his throat and returned to a low tenor voice, pleasing to hear and sexy as Harvey Dent once was; but he first flipped the coin. Fate had sided with him once again as he spoke, “Light the oil.” Harvey showed him the coin briefly before speaking again, “You’ve proven that you are a senile, retarded, insolent man who still sticks to the old ways of the game. The game has changed and so have the rules. You’re in my world now, Carmine old pal. If you want to prove to me that you are more than style and cigars and drinking and being empathetic and compassionate, you’ll make this decision for yourself.”

Lexi had been shot before, and every time she always yelled. Not this time. She didn’t curse or say anything, but instead swallowed hard. Giancarlo was so worried that he stood still, never a good sign for a chef.

[Deleted]

Carmine frowned. His arm was basically useless thanks to his shoulder wound, and Dent had put his man through more than enough pain. He looked around the restaurant, now ruined and stinking of chemicals, and here was this man standing here responsible for it all, ranting and raving like a lunatic. "I don't think you know what kind of man I am." He turned his head back towards Dent.

"I made my decision the moment you stepped into the restaurant." He shifted his weight and cast his eyes outside of the window onto the poorly lit street. "You don't own the world, Harvey Dent, and you're certainly not dead. You're just sad. Sad, alone, insane, and a few weeks away from Arkham."

Carmine stood up and grabbed the lighter, looking it over and letting the dinged silver reflect the restaurant lighting into his eyes. A low sound filtered into his ears and he couldn't help but smile "When you tried to get me put away, you waited too long. If you had arrested me the week before you would have found everything you needed to expedite my trial. No muss, no fuss...no acid.

"Instead you waited, and it cost you. It cost you your job, your face, and the illusion you presented that you were a sane citizen of our city. You waited too long tonight too."

Carmine tossed the lighter on the ground and sneered contemptuously at Dent as the low sound rose in volume and the distinct siren of a GCPD police car could be heard. "You hear the sirens Harvey? The police are coming to defend an innocent citizen from the crazed attacker. I give you...two minutes. What's the plan? Want to toss your coin one more time?"

[Deleted]

Dent grimaced. What the fuck was this piece of shit doing. Harvey Dent was not pleased - he thought that Carmine would do what Carmine “does” best. Killing, raping, destroying. The man had a bullshit quid pro quo operational mind. He believed that by truly providing a real and true product, he would gain the friendship or resources needed for his own masturbatory experience of crime. Crime wasn’t a masturbatory experience that one does on the bed. Crime - in sexual layman’s terms - was an orgy. a violent, rampage that opened the dormant dark side that all citizen’s had. But Carmine had proved that he didn’t have the balls, brains, and intellectual experience to deal with the law in Gotham. Dent clasped his hands, “In order to get to understand what it feels like to go to intensive therapy, dear friend, let’s play a game called Doctor and Patient. As the doctor I’ve just given you news that you’ve got cancer. The worst kind of cancer, stage four pancreatic cancer. You’re going to die in a few weeks, nothing to cure you, nothing to save you. You’ll have to make your will and keep things in order. Leaving the country would not give you more time. This is all true - but in the recent breakthrough in the medical industry, there is a special diet that, used with the drugs, can possibly combat this cancer.”

He cleared his throat, bringing a raspy and battered tone to it, “But instead of choosing life, you’ve accepted the limitations of nature. Instead of being a patient who thinks before reacting, you’ve chosen death. Now, I as the doctor try to batter with you.” He stopped and finished his drink. “You’ve proven that you’re ungrateful, illogical, and naive to the point where treatment by a professional would bring you into a deep depression for your own neurosis and lack of thinking. Compassion and using the wrong set of tools has led you to me. Fate has led me to show you the way, you may not except it now, but you will follow me soon. You’ll have no choice. But as the patient with cancer of the balls, you’ve made your temporary choice.” Dent ended that tirade by pulling out another lighter. He always carried two. Two was a great number, if one didn’t work two would. He opened the lighter and lit the trail of oil, which fluttered and breathed life into the materialistic setting. Giancarlo jumped up out of the chair panicking and ran away to find a fire extinguisher.

The trail of fire streamed all over the restaurant. The drapes, carpet, tables, lighting fixtures, everything was on fire or cackling. The kitchen exploded as Giancarlo ran near it, he fell down and got back up. The entire restaurant was engulfed in flame and small to medium explosions. Dent stared into Carmine’s face as the smoke entered the room. He didn’t cough at all, he had been in burning buildings before. Lexi was coughing every now and then and began to rub her eyes, she ran near Dent as the wood and metal came down around the restaurant. She wasn’t going to die here with these freaks so she responded with, “Harvey! We have to leave, if we don’t leave now we’re going to be burned alive.” Two-face’s eyes lit up like a boy seeing his Christmas presents for the first time.

He rose from the table and put on his jacket, dusting it as the room swelled and Giancarlo ran to Carmine, dodging wood and glass breaking from the ceiling. Tommy, one of Dent’s henchman opened the main doors and ran to Dent. “Boss, the police will be here in a minute and thirty seconds, the car is outside waiting for you.” Dent nodded at him and grabbed Lexi’s hand who at first was angry but then relaxed as she started coughing more violently again. “Tommy, grab Mr. Carmine’s henchman and bring him to the car, we’ll call Dr. Lang to come over and fix him up.” Tommy nodded and found the man lying on the ground, face-down. He grabbed him and put him over his shoulders, going behind Dent and Lexi as they left the main doors.
Lexi and Tommy (carrying the henchman) ran into the car waiting outside. Dent waited outside of the main door waiting for Carmine to respond.

[Deleted]

Carmines eyes burned with hatred as he watched the greasy flames lick their way through the restaurant. He felt the heat press against him and put his hat on his head before flicking down a stack of bills. Carmine didn't like to leave bills unpaid. He moved out towards the door, feeling his shoulder burn even hotter than the room.

Finally, he tasted the clear, cool air of the Gotham night. He eyed Dent's thugs for a moment and then turned to Dent himself. The man looked quite proud of himself, though Carmine knew he was simply going to pay for a new space to be rented. He might even get a portion of the insurance money if he was lucky enough to own the building.

Focus, Carmine thought to himself. He felt light headed. The heat, the blood loss, the shock, and the adrenaline were combining to create a hazy mind. He remembered something he had read long ago, and felt a smile grow in spite of himself. He chuckled lightly for a moment, then gasped slightly as he felt a shock of pain in his shoulder.

Once the pain settled he could look at Dent again. When he did, he found a smile returning. Harvey Dent had never understood life. Too bad Carmine would never be able to make the man see reason. Carmine shuffled towards a nearby bench, feeling very weak. He laughed again as he sat down, and finally told Dent, "We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness."