Stranger Bedfellows

[bigbadharv]

It's taken some doing.  It's taken some digging.  It's taken some dubious promises and a hell of a lot of legwork.  But things are ready

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[jla_extras]

Thorne's glare is murderous as he seethes in anger. This thing he spent months putting together, torn apart inside a minute.

Then he pulls a gun and shoots Big Sal in the back of the head before he gets out the door.

"You think you've won something, Dent?!"

[bigbadharv]

A note of surprise. Did not see that one coming.

"You just killed the closest thing you'll ever have to a friend. The powerbroker is now just plain powerbroken. I think there's a case to be made that I have, yes."

[jla_extras]

"You know what I did to Hugo Strange, Dent," Thorne growls.

[bigbadharv]

"What you had done to him, by goons you no longer have. Thanks for that, by the way. Saved me the trouble of doing it myself."

[jla_extras]

"You THINK you've WON SOMETHING?!" he barks again, brandishing his gun.

"I'll rebuild! You can't stop me forever, and no matter WHAT happens to me, you're always going to be a crazy, ugly psycho freak! Just like the Joker! You're all Jokers!"

[bigbadharv]

There's a twitch at that, but nothing more.

"Wrong on so many counts, I don't know where to begin."

Then, a sudden expectoration right into Thorne's eye, before he turns to walk away.

[jla_extras]

That tears it.

Thorne wipes his face, and brings his gun to bear on the freak that just made his life a lot more complicated.

"You think you can TURN YOUR BACK ON ME?!"

[bigbadharv]

"That's called disrespect, Rupert. And besides, this next part doesn't involve me anymore. We're done."

[jla_extras]

Thorne is a hair's breadth away from firing when the 'next part' gives him a split-second's pause.

Next part?

[sonia_alcana]

There's a light thump behind him. Not as loud a sound as you'd expect someone jumping from the rafters to make.

There's not a lot of time for him to register that, though, before there's a swift blow to the back of his head.

Not hard enough to knock him out. Just enough to daze him. Sonia's been planning this, the timing of it.

She wants him to know who else is doing this to him, before it's over.

[jla_extras]

Thorne only had time to brace himself for something when the hit comes, and he staggers forward, knocking the meeting table over, and he has to catch himself on a chair.

His teeth are bared as he snarls in anger at the pain.

"Of course, there were two of you," he growls, loping to put some distance between himself and Alcana.

"Of course it's you!" he roars again, furious at the entire world.

[sonia_alcana]

Sonia says nothing.

There's nothing to say.

They both know why she's there. How long ago this started.

She wonders if he realizes now, as she walks calmly towards him, how it's going to end.

[bigbadharv]

Two-Face watches from the shadows again.

Sweat breaking out over the wide-eyed part of his face that still has skin as she approaches with that look of death in her eye.

The other side managing a twisted sort of grin.

One fist clenched triumphantly.

The other hand open. Slightly trembling.

[jla_extras]

"You never could let go, could you, you mental defective?" Thorne barks, angrily, knowing he's back against a wall.

"Used to be, you lost your family, you moved on and got yourself a goddamned life! This town breeds obsessive, insane freaks!"

He's still brandishing his gun, as if it has some power to stop this.

"It's about time I finished what I started when I burned your worthless father alive!"

A shot rings out. Two, in fact, aiming to put Sonia down for good.

[sonia_alcana]

He's slow and predictable. She, however, is agile, determined, and fueled by adrenaline.

The first shot grazes her left shoulder - not a serious injury, and she barely feels it, doesn't even break her stride. The second shot goes off harmlessly, and she's there in front of him suddenly, one hand wresting the gun from his grip, the other at his throat.

[jla_extras]

Thorne's advantages were the distance between them and the emotional hold he had over her.

They're both gone in an instant. The fingers at his fat throat clutch his trachea with a scary precision, which loosens his grip on his gun enough for her to take it from him.

His eyes are wide now as a strangled noise escapes his throat. Panicked a little as a heavy arm comes smashing down to try and knock her hand away.