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Breathing heavily, White Mask looked around wildly, trying to make sense of his surroundings as the bag was violently ripped off of his head. It didn't take long to realise that he was on the roof of a building, the nightly visage of Gotham laid out before him as he was dragged by two members of the False Face Society towards the edge.

There, stood a man wearing an ornate mask, encrusted with jewels.

David recognised him instantly as one of Black Mask's new lieutenants, Jewel. A vain and greedy man with a desire to show off his wealth in every way he could, most importantly in the expensive suits he wore and the jewels on his mask. His whole apparel would no doubt come to a costly few million alone.

A waste of money in the opinion of anyone, but that was who Jewel was. He had tried to take advantage of that desire for wealth but had failed, someone else had gotten to him before he could.

"Does Black Mask know that you don't even work for him?" White Mask spat out, Jewel looking to him for a moment, before his fist, clad in pointed jewel brass knuckles struck him across the cheek. Though he could not see it, White Mask knew that his skin had been split and blood was dribbling down the side of his face.

"What Black Mask doesn't know won't hurt him," Jewel replied, not in the least bit concerned, nodding his head. White Mask then looked down and panicked when he felt chains being tied around his ankles. "Besides, Black Mask's time is coming to an end soon."

Before White Mask could respond, he was dragged to the edge of the building, the chain tied to a pole before he was pushed over the side. He didn't fall far, no more than a few inches, feet not far off from the top of the ledge that Jewel leaned against. But he swung his arms around wildly in a vain attempt to try and change his situation.

"But until then, I have to follow instructions, from both of them," Jewel told him. "Your failed attempts at taking over the False Face Society made my boss very annoyed, especially when you ended up losing territory rather than gaining it. No wonder Catwoman left you, Franco, your just deadweight."

"Shut up!" White Mask roared out angrily, but his movement caused a little shift in the chains.

"I wouldn't move around too much," Jewel said, turning to the men by the pole. "Tighten that up will you, I don't want him falling to his death before I get everything I need out of him."

That admission made White Mask chuckle. "You really think I'm going to tell you shit?"

"Don't you want to get back at everyone?" He was asked. "I'm offering you the chance to screw over Black Mask, his mysterious right-hand man and Penguin. Hell, I'll even help you get back at Great White Shark."

"So, he's the one that's trying to take over the False Face Society as well." White Mask murmured, before chuckling once more. "But if you think that the whole avenue of getting revenge is going to make me open up then you're sadly mistaken, Jewel."

Jewel laughed, indicating something that White Mask couldn't see as he looked up. Only for his eyes to widen and his movements to become more erratic when he saw the canisters being lifted onto the ledge. There they were put on an angle, the liquid pouring out and onto him, the smell of it distinctive.

Gasoline.

"There's only one quick way out of this for you, Franco," Jewel told him, laughing. "You either burn to death or I show mercy and loosen the chains, letting you fall to your death. From this height, it will be instant death. But the choice is yours, a slow, agonising death or, a quick and painless one."

-X- Line Break -X-

Things had gone very wrong very quickly.

Too quickly.

When the man calling himself White Mask had come to him with the offer of aid, Arnold had been sceptical. However, he had been willing to listen when he talked about getting back at the Penguin. He had tried in the past to take out and replace Oswald, but his plans had failed.

Oswald still ruled the Iceberg lounge and still ran one of the most lucrative and successful criminal enterprises the world had ever seen. It had become an obsession of his to take Oswald's prized possession for himself, more so than his love for the art of Ventriloquism had when he was a boy.

So, after hearing White Mask's plans and seeing that he had an inside man in the form of White Rabbit, Ventriloquist agreed to offer aid. His group was small time, nothing major or overly strong, but it would make a difference considering White Mask was only using the Street Demonz currently. The plan itself was not perfect either, but no plan ever was and there was always a chance of something going wrong, but Ventriloquist had been aware of and prepared for that.

Yet he had not expected the success they had to shift in a single night.

But it had and now he had to run.

Getting out of Gotham for a few months to let this all blow over was the best course of action. It was really his only course of action at this point when his own base of operations had been destroyed by members of the False Face Society. They knew that he was connected to White Mask somehow and that meant Penguin would soon find out as well.

Every crime lord was trying to curry favour with him.

But as his car was reaching the outer edges of the city, suddenly the Street Demonz, what was left of them anyway came rushing up, pistols drawn and shooting out their tires. Arnold let out a cry of shock as the SUV swerved violently, jerking in his seat as they smashed into a lampost.

His head pounded and he struggled to breathe with how tight the seatbelt dug into him. Though he didn't have to think about that for too long as the door to his seat was ripped open and Arnold soon followed, held in one hand by a member of the Street Demonz.

"This is courtesy of Black Mask." The man spoke, muscles bulging and veins protruding violently, some kind of steroid or drug, Arnold didn't know. Nor did he get much time to think about it as his head was gripped in one hand and smashed into the side of the car, his head bursting open like a grape.

Wiping his hand of the blood and gore that now clung to it, the new leader of the Street Demonz turned to what remained of them. "Call Black Mask, tell him Ventriloquist has been dealt with."

-X- Line Break -X-

"The Ventriloquist and White Mask have both been dealt with." White Rabbit reported as she entered Penguin's office, the short, stout figure of the man giving no indication that he had heard her. "But they have made a request in return for dealing with Ventriloquist."

That did make Penguin look up. "A request?" He asked bemused.

The terms of their agreement had stipulated that the False Face Society deal with Ventriloquist anyway. Why they thought they could request anything of him was bemusing, enough to make him curious.

"They say that Ventriloquist had entered into Falcone territory." As soon as White Rabbit said that, Penguin knew why Black Mask was making an additional request. In order to make sure that Ventriloquist didn't escape and uphold their end of the agreement, Black Mask would have to step on Carmine Falcone's toes to do it.

Not a thing anyone would do lightly.

"And what request do they have? Do they want me to deal with his rat infestation?" Penguin asked, referring to the fact that in the chaos and perceived weakness of the False Face Society, many members were talking to the cops in return for protection.

"No." White Rabbit shook her head. "He wants you to protect them."

'Curious.' Penguin thought, just as confused as one would be in this situation. "Did he say why?"

"He wants to make them feel safe and secure, then deals with them himself when they get out." White Rabbit responded, Penguin smiling amusedly. "Should I tell him no?"

"No, tell him that I'll play along out of my own amusement at his plan. I'll arrange protection for his men in Arkham and Belle Reve." As much as Black Mask could arrange his own protection for his men, none could do it as effectively or as quickly as him. Penguin was connected to all the right people and with but a single phone call could do what would take someone like Black Mask days, if not weeks to arrange.

Such was his reach and influence.