[Costigan's talking in his usual chill voice, which is pretty much devoid of accent.]
When my dad died, the father at the service said it gets easier to deal with death as time goes on. I know he wasn't exactly talking about my own death, but I still feel like he had no fuckin' clue.
[Inmate Filter, minus Crane & Slade]I need some alcohol. Anyone
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I do. [ Pause. ] He asked me to wait for you to contact me.
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Alfred did train manners into him.
He sees Costigan the moment he steps into the place, and he heads straight for him. He can eat later, and he has just woken up anyway. And he drops himself on the seat opposite the man, his body language entirely casual, no tension or nervousness- and yet at the same time entirely anonymous. Nothing that someone glancing across the room will pick up, or even if they choose to look at the two of them. ]
Afternoon.
[ He lets the Jersey accent slip just a little into his voice, cocks his head to the side as he looks at Costigan. ]
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"Are you going to tell me or are we playing happy family for a minute first?" [There's no use beating around the bush. The inmate's all for niceties when they're relevant, but they both know what the other wants already, or a rough idea at least, and so why bother.]
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Perhaps it's because it's Bruce whom he is talking to. Whom he doesn't seem to want to talk to, but is because his warden wanted him to. Bruce needs more data. More information. And so he watches even as he shrugs expansively, a hand tapping against the table in front of him. Silent. ]
You know about Nightwing. [ It's not a question. ]
Has Dick told you about Gotham?
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[ Then, he leans back a little, trying to consider. He steeples his fingers together, place them down on the table. He's not going to tell Costigan everything, of course not- but he will tell him enough. ]
Gotham was a corrupt city. A man can walk into a shop filled with cops and rob it without being stopped, if he offered those cops a share beforehand.
There needed to be someone to change it. [ He breathes out. ] I chose to. Working within the system will take too long, so I became Batman. [ And he shrugs, a little. He could've become a cop, he knows- but that wasn't for him. Not with his position. Not with his name. ]
Dick found out about it a while after I took him in, and he wanted to help. So I trained him.
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Dick will tell you different, but there isn't a difference.
I'm a vigilante. I work outside the law; outside the system. The police I work with have an obligation to arrest me - only their good will make sure they don't.
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Jim Gordon just never bothers.
It's a trust that he won't break.
And he looks at Costigan for a long moment, then links his fingers together. ]
Tell about yourself. [ He cocks his head to the side. ]
Anything you choose.
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This was different, though, because he hadn't been assigned to Bruce. He has no obligation to answer and, really, no desire to. As far as he was concerned, this was because Dick had practically ordered him and because it was a favor to his warden. Costigan really didn't give a fuck about Dick's dad, even if he was a comic book character.]
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And they fall, break to pieces, hold guns against their own heads and cry and scream. Or take hostages. Try to destroy the whole Arkham Asylum itself. Scream at him. He's seen it all, really- and Costigan reminds Bruce, just a little, of those fallen cops.
It's probably in the look of his eyes.
And so Bruce cocks his head. Doesn't smile, though he does put his hands on the table, folded between themselves. ]
Tell me about your city.
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And he did come. Because Dick wants him to. And that is telling. ]
I believe that a city shapes a person. [ He shrugs. ] So tell me about the place you come from. What do you like about it? What do you hate? What would you change?
What is it like?
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