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The table touches grass and he methodically extends each leg before flipping it up and pressing it firmly into the grass. The mesh bag over his shoulder is thrown on top as he slowly removes a series of hats in plastic bags. You recognize the one's bearing Dent's slogan but also see a small stack of Anti-Wayne Hats; the Wayne Industry W with a red cross through it. Classic for a reason. What follows are mostly generic baseball caps, a few berets, and one last hat that has you whispering:
"Hawthorne, you see that?"
A GCPD Patrol Hat, looks good too. Just like the one you got after Precinct One took you on. From this distance you can't tell if it's a fake but you have to assume it is, all GCPD uniforms are provided by Wayne Tech and tightly controlled. Even getting a replacement can be a pain in the ass.
"Yeah I see it." Hawthorne grumbles. "But don't go poppin your zipper just yet. We haven't seen the lady."
"What if she's been replaced? Papeli gets hit but survives and they burn the people who interacted with him directly?"
"But still set up in the same spot? No, we wait."
You sigh and flick the joint to the ground before snuffing it with your foot. Wallace glances at you before awkwardly reaching down past you to pick it up.
"You know I don't like litter..." He sheepishly replies to your stare.
"Set-up man is moving." Hawthorne says in your ear.
You casually glance up and watch as the man who set up the table steps away, gives it a once over, and then makes his way to the trail where he just walks off.
"Hawthor-"
"Already thought about it, I called in a favor with my buddy in Precinct 3 and I have a few patrolmen who usually work the park waiting for a call. We'll intercept him, just focus on... she's coming."
True to his word you see the hobbled form of an elderly woman come over the bridge, wide floppy brim of her sun-hat wobbling as she makes her way over to the table. Once there she gives each of the bags and hats a little nudge as she adjusts them just right. The Patrol Cap is shifted to the right, behind the stack of generic headwear. Then... nothing. Her arms hang limply by her sides and she stares into space behind a pair of flimsy wire frames.
"She's at the table, just standing there." You whisper, angling yourself towards Wallace.
"What do you want to do?" Hawthorne replies. "We could always take her in now, worry about getting answers at the station."
>"Yeah, I'm moving in. Make sure the set-up guy gets sent to us too."
>"Let's wait for a bit... see who comes to buy."
>"Let's test something.... Wallace. Go up to her stand and buy a hat. Just don't put it on, bring it back over."
>"No. I have an idea... Wallace, I want you to go buy a hat. After you buy it, just try it on."
>"Not yet, I'm gonna see if I can't get her to talk to me. Papeti was barely capable of speech."
>Write-In
