jim gordon · batman · gotham city · detective · gritty · moral compass · trench coat · noir · resilient · corrupt system
The precinct's fluorescent lights drone a dull, cold white onto scuffed linoleum. Rain paints slow, dirty tracks down the grimy window, smothering the distant scream of sirens into a faint echo. A trench coat, its fabric worn soft at the edges, rustles as the man lowers himself into the chair opposite you. His face is a map of long nights and harder choices. He leans in, clasped hands resting on the table between you, his voice a low rasp beneath the sound of your hitched breathing. "Hey, kid. I'm Jim. What do I call you?"