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maskormenace2015-01-20 10:22 pm
indenture) wrote in maskormenace2015-01-20 10:22 pm
◨ 2 | video ◧
[ The camera does not immediately focus on the face of the man holding it; it shakes a bit, the screen showing a white shirt, black suspenders, a right hand sporting two finger splints. Finally it levels to show Harvey's normally handsome face, except there a couple of things amiss:
One thing of note is the scar that goes down the left side of his face, from eye to jaw, a clean line of a cut through his plastic surgery that is not fresh but has not yet been "fixed." Another is his blackened right eye, and his lip swollen on the right side. He doesn't look particularly in pain -- or at least doesn't show it -- but what he does look is pissed off. ]
Too far. This has gone too far. Look at me -- look at this.
[ Harvey points to his face with his splinted fingers, still looking livid. His breathing is harsh, but even. ]
It's never enough, what I do. Bad enough I have to work with and against the system, "unsettled" and working the arms of law, but the big red weight on my shoulders sees to it I'll never see a moment's peace for the rest of my life. I'm no saint -- I know. Made mistakes. So now I wake up looking like a human punching bag.
Not to point fingers. But where's the justice in that?
[ He gestures, vaguely, with his splinted fingers as much as he can move them. He takes a sharp breath, exhaling slowly, looking like he's trying to calm down though his face is still red around the eyes, the temples, the forehead. His left eye looks particularly dead as it stares forward, his weary-but-professional expression making the fact it's a glass replica suddenly more obvious. It moves in not quite perfect synch with the right eye. ]
Just my two cents.
All that aside, I had something else to say. I was hoping to look my best for this announcement, but next time I'll know better than to put it off. Never mind the state of my face. My name's Harvey Dent, and for those of you that don't know me yet, I'm a Public Defender in Heropa. If you're ever in trouble and can't afford a representative, we might see more of each other. I won't rest until I see justice is served the way it's meant to be.
That's all. Good day to you.
One thing of note is the scar that goes down the left side of his face, from eye to jaw, a clean line of a cut through his plastic surgery that is not fresh but has not yet been "fixed." Another is his blackened right eye, and his lip swollen on the right side. He doesn't look particularly in pain -- or at least doesn't show it -- but what he does look is pissed off. ]
Too far. This has gone too far. Look at me -- look at this.
[ Harvey points to his face with his splinted fingers, still looking livid. His breathing is harsh, but even. ]
It's never enough, what I do. Bad enough I have to work with and against the system, "unsettled" and working the arms of law, but the big red weight on my shoulders sees to it I'll never see a moment's peace for the rest of my life. I'm no saint -- I know. Made mistakes. So now I wake up looking like a human punching bag.
Not to point fingers. But where's the justice in that?
[ He gestures, vaguely, with his splinted fingers as much as he can move them. He takes a sharp breath, exhaling slowly, looking like he's trying to calm down though his face is still red around the eyes, the temples, the forehead. His left eye looks particularly dead as it stares forward, his weary-but-professional expression making the fact it's a glass replica suddenly more obvious. It moves in not quite perfect synch with the right eye. ]
Just my two cents.
All that aside, I had something else to say. I was hoping to look my best for this announcement, but next time I'll know better than to put it off. Never mind the state of my face. My name's Harvey Dent, and for those of you that don't know me yet, I'm a Public Defender in Heropa. If you're ever in trouble and can't afford a representative, we might see more of each other. I won't rest until I see justice is served the way it's meant to be.
That's all. Good day to you.
no subject
no subject
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[He doesn't think anything of it. He's doing a mild favour for a clearly targeted man who wants to know who has it out for him- how could it possibly go wrong?]
Do you think you're going to be okay?
[Jacob gestures towards his face with his hand, his fingers stiff to mimic Harvey's splints.]
no subject
[ Harvey is silent for a moment, as if trying to parse the actual intent of that question. He thinks about it. ]
I've survived worse -- don't worry about it. The only thing that's really broken are my fingers.
no subject
[Jacob looks kind of impressed, really.]
I'd ask what kind of scrapes you've been through- but I've got the feeling that's off-limits too.
no subject
Where I come from, you have to be. Maniacs, mobsters -- you never know who you'll be dealing with.
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[Jacob crosses his arms.]
Sometimes it feels like things are getting more and more tense. With ImPorts, I mean.
no subject
[ Nowhere is quite as bad as Gotham, in Harvey's opinion. ]
You didn't see that coming? We are strangers here.
no subject
[Which Jacob has participated in. Principle will always trump unity for him.]
But it's like you say- there's still hope. Things don't have to get worse from here.
no subject
[ If people ever agreed on anything there wouldn't be much need for lawyers, now would there? ]
Oh, they will. Hope doesn't mean things won't get worse before they get better.