Deadshot ⌐╦╦═─

Floyd Lawton a.k.a. Deadshot - The World's Greatest Assassin

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[gothammuses-blog]

[ oh shit. o h s h i t. good job, suze, insult the son of the guy your dad is trying to impress. fantastic. a+ job, really. everyone’s going to be so proud of you ] I’m –

            – Look, I’m really sorry. I’m just trying to make conversation. [ she glanced at the bottle in his hands; there was no way he could be old enough to drink, and who drinks beer at one of these things anyway? ] And I’m not staring, you can chill. [ realizing how she was looking at him in that exact moment could probably be defined as staring almost exactly, Susan sputtered out a few unintelligible syllables before finally angling herself away from him slightly and holding up one hand to the side of her face ] Anymore, I mean. N o w my eyes are averted. [ now that a smile had snuck its way across her lips, she was thankful he couldn’t see her face. or, hopefully couldn’t see her face ]

           – Oh, but yeah, I’m new to this specific party, but my dad’s been trying to work his way up for years now. He thinks he’s finally made it with this one though, but – [ she shrugged ] – I don’t get it. No offense.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Wait - why are you apologising again? What happened, happened - and, you need to stand by that or you'll just look ridiculous. [Oh, yes - he had a lot of respect for those who could stand their ground; who could be controversial without giving into the moral obligation of being nice. He was hardened - he could take it.] Honestly, I'm told it's the eyes - but, your smile ain't half-bad either. [Ah - it finally made sense. Had this been some elaborate ruse all along? He should've figured.] So...Daddy Dearest's wanting in my old man's pocket - and, you're just...here...with me...? I've been a pawn for long enough - trust me - so, I'm not gonna take your hand in marriage or anything if that's why you're here.

[gothammuses-blog]

[ her eyes lingered on him for only a second longer, taking in his posture, his expression; it was like he was waiting for the wall to swallow him up. she knew the feelings. not all the time, not even most of the time, as Susan was blessed with the God given ability to quickly and easily make friends. and so she took some cues from the broody mess of a boy in a suit next to her, and opened her mouth to speak a second time ] I always hate being here, don’t you? These big parties. They don’t make any sense. It’s like… everybody is trying to be someone they’re not to outdo everybody else. You know? You catch a lot more flies with honey than with vinegar. [ was that the right cliche? no. damn. she tried to recover, hoping he didn’t notice ] I mean. Like. What’s the point of people liking you if they don’t know who you really are, and… stuff.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

 Well, it is my house and it is my father's party - but, that doesn't mean I like being here. [An immodest 'sip' of alcohol was taken with as much grace as a brooding aristocrat can - simultaneously glancing out the room beyond.] Still, here's to you on being the first to say something like that. [Why was she looking at him like that? Eurgh.] Look, I'm not going to tell your 'Daddy', OK? Stop with the whole staring thing. [Oh, God - she was one of those people. Was he getting himself into a night of preaching and philosophy? Something stronger would be needed, then.] Because, everyone's the same. They all want a taste of the high life, come here by the dozen, try and worm their way in, and, eventually succeed. They all end up bastards, though. [He should know - he lived with one.] You're new, though - I've been forced 'round these people for years; not once did I see you. 

[gothammuses-blog]

[ she always gravitated towards the edge of the room at these things. normally no one noticed, but this time she almost collided with someone else already there. if she didn’t know any better at first, she’d think she collided with a pair of bright blue eyes, that was all she could focus on at first. but then she regained her sense of self and smiled apologetically, moving to one side only slightly and leaning back against the wall, a softer mirror of her new companion’s own posture ] Sorry about that. I didn’t see you over here, so if that was the point, you’re doing a really good job at being invisible.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[Ever since an early age, Floyd had possessed a remarkable penchant for being elusive - both in character and presence - so, by this point, it was not entirely surprising to have him whip out the Invisible Man card. Honestly, blending in as one of the guests made the evening so much quieter than it would if he still abused his reputation. And, there was the small matter that some lost dancer had crossed his path. She was probably running away with her own romantic fantasies already. Typical.] That kinda was the point of this whole shindig, to be honest - so, thanks for that. [God, if she even considered further conversation.]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[lonelygvn]

A quiet, involuntary whine slipped past Charlie’s lips, one hand snaking up and burying itself into Floyd’s hair, holding him close to her in an attempt to turn the motion against her neck from speaking to something more along the lines of kissing. Licking. B i t i n g. Her other hand, still propping her up on his knee with her knees solidly planted on the floor of the bar, was beginning to shake. Apparently she didn’t have the energy to hold herself up, or at least not as much energy as she had confidence in her strength at the present moment. “But I want it now. Why do you gotta be so mean, huh?” She shifted, trying to position her head so that she could speak as close to his ear as she could get. “I’m just an awfully lonely little girl, Mr. Lawton.”

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Even though he would be the first to admit to spending many-a-night with a complete stranger in his bed, the sheer affection - the desperation - that Charlie possessed didn't quite sit well with him; it almost felt like he was drowning in the memories of a past life. "I'm a very patient man," he grated; timing it so that the grasp on his hair fell away naturally before squatting to her new height. "And, the best marksman this world's ever seen. So, if you want anythin' close to this, run along to Daddy Dearest - then, we can talk business." A brief chuckle. "Oh, an', I wouldn't get too attached to your psycho-faux-boyfriend: I might have to kill him some day."

[iamtheonlygreenarrow-blog]

Oliver rolled his eyes beneath the domino mask that he wore underneath his hood. Shaking his head at the sniper he sighed.

“Because you have an inability to do so.”

He looked over at the man who preferred guns to bows and arrows.

“A gun is an unrefined and frankly quite boring.”

[floydlawtonthehitman]

"I see what you're tryin' to do, Tinkerbell - an', honestly, I'm up for it." It was healthy practice to attempt a seemingly impossible, daring challenge everyday - ironically enough, it was what kept Floyd alive. Spontaneity should have been his middle name - not George. Eurgh. "If you were one of the Bats, I could get that - but, c'mon, man - it's not like you don't kill people; or, actually give a shit."

[iamtheonlygreenarrow-blog]

Pulling an arrow from his quiver Oliver aimed the arrow for less than a second and fired, the arrow lanced across the air and cut the cable that held a string of lights above the avenue, the cable dropped and snared the criminals that he had been chasing.

Smiling contently he twirled and arrow through his fingers and laughed. “Bet you couldn’t do that even if you wanted to,” he said smugly to whoever was willing to listen to the ramblings of a vigilante.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

"That's kinda the point - I wouldn't want to." A bow may well be capable of launching projectiles - of killing across long distances - but, for Floyd, the weapon of choice had to be an efficient firearm. There was nothing quite like the accuracy and destruction that could be caused from a sniper - from a pistol - the likes of which could not be matched by the Arrow's toys. "It's like you've got a kid's version an' I've got the real deal."

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[lonelygvn]

A quiet, involuntary whine slipped past Charlie’s lips, one hand snaking up and burying itself into Floyd’s hair, holding him close to her in an attempt to turn the motion against her neck from speaking to something more along the lines of kissing. Licking. B i t i n g. Her other hand, still propping her up on his knee with her knees solidly planted on the floor of the bar, was beginning to shake. Apparently she didn’t have the energy to hold herself up, or at least not as much energy as she had confidence in her strength at the present moment. “But I want it now. Why do you gotta be so mean, huh?” She shifted, trying to position her head so that she could speak as close to his ear as she could get. “I’m just an awfully lonely little girl, Mr. Lawton.”

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Affection on this scale was not something that Floyd was especially familiar with - not these days, at least - and, there still appeared to be something preventing him from making the final jump; from pushing himself over the edge into sheer bliss. Just what, though, he could not fathom. "In my experience, lonely girls are pretty good at bein' patient." But, he did not retreat abruptly. Instead, he allowed for his lips to roam across the flesh of her shoulder once more before sitting upright - adamant that their little arrangement would only follow through when she filled her part first. "You're easy on the eye, Falcone. Don't think I'll just let you get away - I'll find you when you have a contract for me."

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Figuring that that would have bought her attention, Floyd simply had to wait for Little Miss Falcone to come crawling back to his side. His sexual history was laced with feisty one-night-stands and alcohol-laced visits to local brothels - and, he suspected - no, hoped - that this one would be no different. “Somethin’ like that,” he smirked; somewhat flattered to have his natural talents acknowledged. Trailing the barrel of the gun across the exposed flesh of her neck, he leaned in so that their noses were almost touching; close enough to have attempted a kiss - but, not making the jump just yet. Allure was the key. “Suppose you can help with that - what then, huh?”

[lonelygvn]

Charlie giggled, tugging on his shirt, attempting to ever so slightly tug him down towards her. “After that?” she whispered, sliding one hand from his chest to his knee and pushing herself up – again, only slightly, but they were noticeably closer now. “Anything you want. Just say the word.” She carefully tilted her head back, keeping her face fairly close to Floyd’s but exposing more of her neck to him. The danger of the gun pressed against her skin only thrilled her more, added to the intensity of the encounter.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Now, Floyd was no stranger to the lust-driven experience of spontaneous intercourse - but, it had been a while since he'd actually used it for the sake of a contract. Anything for the money, he supposed - at this time of year, he - no, they - needed it more than ever. "Well, you're gonna go on a little errand for me, lady." It was a husked whisper, really - scarcely audible from his lips buried in the crevice of her neck. As for the gun? Well, that was still there in all it's beauty. "Do that for me - an', well, I'll find some time in my busy schedule to show my appreciation."  

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

This was where it always got interesting - when people became royally stupid and thought it best to provoke a man of his calibre. “Alright, darlin’ - I hear you: loud an’ clear.” And, from that point alone, he mentally declared that he’d be doing the woman no favours any time soon. Still, it seemed like a good time for a smoke - as bitter as the tobacco in Gotham was - and, boy, did he indulge in it’s sweet nectar; as well as the retreating form of Little Miss Falcone. By this point, it was just him and the barman - the rest of the patrons were wise enough to not irk him on his grand return - but, that number was soon to be whittled down to just one. “Tell me, do you have family?” he grated; reclining upon the bar as casual as conceivably possible - in spite of the imposing gun. Needless to say, the barman broke there and then. “A-A wife…and, a son…” There was some thought to this - feigned, of course - and, wife a bout of envy, Lawton could only smirk. “Then, I’m sure they’re miss you very much.” And, the bullet was fired - a clean entry wound, a clean exit wound.

[lonelygvn]

Her hand was on the door. If she wasn’t wearing heels, hadn’t been so drunk, she would have been long gone by the time that gun was fired. Instead, she pushed open the door to the sound of a gunshot instead of a bell, and almost i n s t a n t l y was back in her place at the bar, this time behind Floyd instead of behind him. She sunk to the grimy floor of the bar, hands snaking around his chest, fingers knotting in his shirt decisively. “You got an itchy trigger finger, baby?” Her lips moved next to his ear, interest in Floyd suddenly piqued again – though perhaps not his abilities, Charlie refused to consider the possibility of another mercenary on her father’s payroll.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Figuring that that would have bought her attention, Floyd simply had to wait for Little Miss Falcone to come crawling back to his side. His sexual history was laced with feisty one-night-stands and alcohol-laced visits to local brothels - and, he suspected - no, hoped - that this one would be no different. "Somethin' like that," he smirked; somewhat flattered to have his natural talents acknowledged. Trailing the barrel of the gun across the exposed flesh of her neck, he leaned in so that their noses were almost touching; close enough to have attempted a kiss - but, not making the jump just yet. Allure was the key. "Suppose you can help with that - what then, huh?"

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Now, that wasn’t the sort of response he’d been anticipating. The people of Gotham knew better than to laugh at the man who could effortlessly shoot them from across the city with no qualms to be had. But, this one? God, she belonged in the madhouse. “Right, you,” he smirked; brushing her off with as much subtlety as a man of his standing could manage. It didn’t exactly take a lot of effort, either - she was as drunk as they came! “I’m just sorry t'hear about your family throwin’ their money away like that - all those thugs, all those wannabe assassins - when they’ve got the perfect guy right here. Tsk - I’m disappointed.”

[lonelygvn]

“Hey – “ Nearly falling off her chair just from the slight force used to remove her from Floyd’s personal space, Charlie frowned deeply, attempting to nonchalantly adjust herself as she glared at him. “What part ‘a ‘myself and Victor take care of everything’ don’t you get, mister? We got a good system goin’. So thanks, but no thanks, okay? Jeez.” She began to stand, obviously deciding that her stay at this bar – and in this man’s company – was as good as over if he couldn’t take a hint.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

This was where it always got interesting - when people became royally stupid and thought it best to provoke a man of his calibre. "Alright, darlin' - I hear you: loud an' clear." And, from that point alone, he mentally declared that he'd be doing the woman no favours any time soon. Still, it seemed like a good time for a smoke - as bitter as the tobacco in Gotham was - and, boy, did he indulge in it's sweet nectar; as well as the retreating form of Little Miss Falcone. By this point, it was just him and the barman - the rest of the patrons were wise enough to not irk him on his grand return - but, that number was soon to be whittled down to just one. "Tell me, do you have family?" he grated; reclining upon the bar as casual as conceivably possible - in spite of the imposing gun. Needless to say, the barman broke there and then. "A-A wife...and, a son..." There was some thought to this - feigned, of course - and, wife a bout of envy, Lawton could only smirk. "Then, I'm sure they're miss you very much." And, the bullet was fired - a clean entry wound, a clean exit wound.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

“Doesn’t surprise me, kid - you oughtta know me.” In principle. The less people knew about Floyd Lawton and more about The World’s Greatest Assassin, the better. They were stories from another time - for another time - and, from a darker place than anything Gotham could have conceived. “Yeah? Well, you thought like the rest of the city, darlin’. Media’s a bitch - but, it has it’s uses.” And, that was all that he was willing to part with. Whatever occurred in those years of alleged incarceration was his business  and, his business only. “Well, I’m not the sorta guy who likes to ask questions - throw an alias at me and I’ll have your ass covered for a price.” Pausing the consumption of alcohol with the brim still in contact with a rugged lip, Floyd peered over the glass with an accented brow; seeing dollar signs flash upon his eyes with the thirst of an assassin. “Falcone, huh? How about that. Heck, it’s almost like fate brought you here to line my pockets.” There was a brief grimace at the mention of Zsasz - the bastard irked him on a level no-one else could - but, she seemed decent enough for him to let that slide. For now. “So, you know who I am an’ what I do: ready to run, kid?”

[lonelygvn]

Charlie snorted violently, sending her shooting backwards into Floyd’s shoulder – hard. The idea of her lining some other hitman’s pockets when she herself worked for the man she considered to be the most elite killer of all time was too humorous a thought for her to handle. She shook with laughter, now turned into Floyd and clutching his chest for support. “Oh my God. I’m sorry, mister, but me and my family aren’t gonna be lining your pockets anytime soon. Me personally, anything I need done, I do myself. Anything else, that’s what we’ve got Victor for. I’m sure you’re great ‘n all, but we‘ve got everything under control for righ’ now.” With one last giggle, she turned her head up, trying to get a look at the man’s face and gauge his reaction. “I’m not laughin’ at you, promise. Promise! Promise.”

[floydlawtonthehitman]

 Now, that wasn't the sort of response he'd been anticipating. The people of Gotham knew better than to laugh at the man who could effortlessly shoot them from across the city with no qualms to be had. But, this one? God, she belonged in the madhouse. "Right, you," he smirked; brushing her off with as much subtlety as a man of his standing could manage. It didn't exactly take a lot of effort, either - she was as drunk as they came! "I'm just sorry t'hear about your family throwin' their money away like that - all those thugs, all those wannabe assassins - when they've got the perfect guy right here. Tsk - I'm disappointed."  

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Now, it was his turn to laugh; though, it was more of a smug exclamation than downright humour. “Says it all, doesn’t it? I only do what I’m ‘supposed’ to do when there’s money involved - you gotta play hard to earn big. Other than that?” He spread his arms out somewhat; slouching considerably in the chair and crossing both legs as a pair of military-esque boots propped themselves upon the table. “I’m as 'bad’ as they come.” By this point, he’d turned a blind eye to the fools still occupying the bar - either they liked to believe they had balls, or, were just outright stupid. The people of Arkham had went far enough to say he was crazy - but, wasn’t everyone? “Most rich gals don’t even know these places exist - but, I’m gonna run with you not bein’ the kind of princess I’m used to crossin’.” Looking up from the collection of glasses which lined the table, a charming set of white teeth revealed themselves as though there was great triumph in announcing himself. “Floyd Lawton - though, most call me Deadshot.”

[lonelygvn]

“Mm, no, right, I’ve totally heard of you! That’s what it is, yeah. No, I’ve definitely heard of you. How long were you locked up? I thought I heard about you getting put away when I was…” She concentrated, trying to count the years she’d been with Victor, but the number eluded her. “A lot younger,” she concluded finally, “Like, fifteen, maybe.” She was very quickly losing energy, which was a real drag, considering how excited about things she got so quickly. After taking a breath and pausing to swallow [ her throat was getting dry, this was why she hated drinking ], Charlie continued, slowly drifting into Floyd’s space to lean on him instead of the counter. “I guess it’s only fair that I tell you my name now, right?” She didn’t let him respond. “Charlotte Falcone, but everybody calls me Charlie. It’s kinda funny, because even though I’m already part of the family, I work under Victor – Victor Zsasz, with the tally mark scar things? – and he’s the one who really works for my dad. Isn’t that funny?” One finger lazily traced out a pattern in the worn wood in front of her, eyes following her hand as intently as she could manage.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

"Doesn't surprise me, kid - you oughtta know me." In principle. The less people knew about Floyd Lawton and more about The World's Greatest Assassin, the better. They were stories from another time - for another time - and, from a darker place than anything Gotham could have conceived. "Yeah? Well, you thought like the rest of the city, darlin'. Media's a bitch - but, it has it's uses." And, that was all that he was willing to part with. Whatever occurred in those years of alleged incarceration was his business  and, his business only. "Well, I'm not the sorta guy who likes to ask questions - throw an alias at me and I'll have your ass covered for a price." Pausing the consumption of alcohol with the brim still in contact with a rugged lip, Floyd peered over the glass with an accented brow; seeing dollar signs flash upon his eyes with the thirst of an assassin. "Falcone, huh? How about that. Heck, it's almost like fate brought you here to line my pockets." There was a brief grimace at the mention of Zsasz - the bastard irked him on a level no-one else could - but, she seemed decent enough for him to let that slide. For now. "So, you know who I am an' what I do: ready to run, kid?"

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

“I like to think of it as my retirement - a sweet break ‘fore makin’ a grand return - ‘cause, let’s face it, we all got hurdles to get over. Most folk don’t get over 'em - but, me? Ha. Blackgate was like takin’ a school trip - it’s here where the action is.” Of course, there was the matter of locating high-paying clients - but, in a city that brought forth it’s own suicide, he figured it wouldn’t be a difficult task; especially given his knack for financial potential. “What about you, kid? You look too well-off to be in a place like this.” Was he catching on to her economic background? Damn right.

[lonelygvn]

She laughed again, this time more of a drunken giggle this time. “You know you’re not s’posed to come out of retirement, right? Normally that’s a p e r m a n e n t thing. Jus’ sayin’.” It took her a moment for the words to flow through her mind enough times for her to properly understand them, but, after a moment, Charlie came to the conclusion that anyone still in the bar by now deserved a drink courtesy of Alberto Falcone and informed the bartender of this decision. Man, she was gonna pay for that one. “I do, huh?” she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm, “Even rich gals like myself can drink wherever they like last time I checked.” Another giggle spilled out from between her lips, and she gave her companion a quizzical look. “Hey, what’d you say your name was, mister?”

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Now, it was his turn to laugh; though, it was more of a smug exclamation than downright humour. "Says it all, doesn't it? I only do what I'm 'supposed' to do when there's money involved - you gotta play hard to earn big. Other than that?" He spread his arms out somewhat; slouching considerably in the chair and crossing both legs as a pair of military-esque boots propped themselves upon the table. "I'm as 'bad' as they come." By this point, he'd turned a blind eye to the fools still occupying the bar - either they liked to believe they had balls, or, were just outright stupid. The people of Arkham had went far enough to say he was crazy - but, wasn't everyone? "Most rich gals don't even know these places exist - but, I'm gonna run with you not bein' the kind of princess I'm used to crossin'." Looking up from the collection of glasses which lined the table, a charming set of white teeth revealed themselves as though there was great triumph in announcing himself. "Floyd Lawton - though, most call me Deadshot."

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Given the situation he was currently in, he didn’t exactly blame Little Miss here for doubting his reputation prior to Blackgate. But, if she possessed as much brains as he suspected, then, all the tell-tale signs of a true villain would - eventually - become clear. “You don’t need a band of thugs or a secret army t’ get what you want ‘round here. All it takes is one man with an impeccable shot - the people do the rest.” That wasn’t to say that he’d ‘blindly’ open fire upon the innocents of Gotham - not if they steered clear of his targets and didn’t become one themselves. But, that train of thought was interrupted by him nearly spitting a mouthful of alcohol across the room; the woman’s words hitting him so hard that he just had to react. “'Fall from grace’, huh? ’s that what you think?”

[lonelygvn]

‘One man with an impeccable shot.’ She could only vaguely remember hearing about some crazy incredible marksman, but then he went off the grid while she was still in training. This guy was obviously s o m e o n e, though, between what he was obviously insinuating and the reaction he elicited when he walked into the bar. This train of thought was interrupted when he began choking on his drink, and Charlie couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Okay, then how would you phrase what happened, mister?”

[floydlawtonthehitman]

"I like to think of it as my retirement - a sweet break 'fore makin' a grand return - 'cause, let's face it, we all got hurdles to get over. Most folk don't get over 'em - but, me? Ha. Blackgate was like takin' a school trip - it's here where the action is." Of course, there was the matter of locating high-paying clients - but, in a city that brought forth it's own suicide, he figured it wouldn't be a difficult task; especially given his knack for financial potential. "What about you, kid? You look too well-off to be in a place like this." Was he catching on to her economic background? Damn right.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Even though it were he that had put forth the suggestion, Floyd figured that he should have been disappointed to not be embracing the release of a trigger that evening. Indeed, he was - but, he was more distracted - no, interested - by the traits and impersonations which the girl had encaptured. An Italian father - head of ‘family’ - with a daughter boasting a steel spine? Yeah, this was all slotting together quite beautifully. The matter of brothers, though, was quickly dropped - for, what more could he say? “Gotham’s changin’,” he scoffed; effectively spitting down in the general direction of the barman. “There were days where I never used to even have a fuckin’ tab. Now look at it.”

[lonelygvn]

Raising one skeptical eyebrow, Charlie began taking her cues from the man, gently flicking one of the empty glasses off of the bar and offering only something that resembled a brief apologetic glance in return. “You really used to be that big around here? So what caused your, uh, fall from grace?” She nearly commented about how she normally didn’t need to pay for her drinks either, not since the bars she frequented were owned by her father. Something told her she should bite her tongue, however, so she did.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Given the situation he was currently in, he didn't exactly blame Little Miss here for doubting his reputation prior to Blackgate. But, if she possessed as much brains as he suspected, then, all the tell-tale signs of a true villain would - eventually - become clear. "You don't need a band of thugs or a secret army t' get what you want 'round here. All it takes is one man with an impeccable shot - the people do the rest." That wasn't to say that he'd 'blindly' open fire upon the innocents of Gotham - not if they steered clear of his targets and didn't become one themselves. But, that train of thought was interrupted by him nearly spitting a mouthful of alcohol across the room; the woman's words hitting him so hard that he just had to react. "'Fall from grace', huh? 's that what you think?"

[floydlawtonthehitman]

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Now, that was what he wanted to hear - an offer of free drinks and enough words to sate his vainglorious ego. These sort of people would have been the ones to watch out for - if past experience had taught him anything - but, if anything were to happen - if this really were too good to be true - then, no-one would be leaving there alive. “Somethin’’s tellin’ me you’re no good girl,” he chuckled; almost a darkened rasp as he knocked back another two glasses of sweet nectar. Clearly, his answer was given. “Just as somethin’’s tellin’ me you’re not fond of this brother of yours.” A brief pause. “Since you’re payin’ and all, I could be persuaded to get him off your back.” Of course, it was the brother that was paying; which made the entire situation even more amusing. “A guy’s gotta make a livin’ somehow.”

[lonelygvn]

This time the laugh slipping through Charlie’s lips was a real one. “That’s real nice of you, mister,” The ‘nice girl’ act was slowly being dropped, and the way of speaking along with it, “But I could handle my brother myself.” Pausing for a drink of from the glass the bartender had just set down in front of her, she added, “If I wanted to.” Another pause, and another sip. “No, I take that back. I sure as hell want to, but our dad wouldn’t be too happy with me.” She put on an Italian accent far too thick to truly mimic her father’s. “We don’t-a touch the family unless there’s a very good-a reason.” Raising the glass to her lips once more, she snorted her distaste into it, rolling her eyes. That was the one rule of her father’s she truly despised. If it wasn’t for the strict ‘family is sacred’ way the mob operated, she’d be an only child by now, save for Selina. Changing the subject suddenly, she set her own glass down and reached for one of the empty ones her companion had finished. “Is he giving you – ? Hey asshole, I said the g o o d  s t u f f when I came in here, didn’t I?” The last comment loudly directed at the bartender, she slammed the glass back down with a huff.

[floydlawtonthehitman]

Even though it were he that had put forth the suggestion, Floyd figured that he should have been disappointed to not be embracing the release of a trigger that evening. Indeed, he was - but, he was more distracted - no, interested - by the traits and impersonations which the girl had encaptured. An Italian father - head of 'family' - with a daughter boasting a steel spine? Yeah, this was all slotting together quite beautifully. The matter of brothers, though, was quickly dropped - for, what more could he say? "Gotham's changin'," he scoffed; effectively spitting down in the general direction of the barman. "There were days where I never used to even have a fuckin' tab. Now, look at it."