#reward in Heaven

[yeslordmyking]

Psalm 8:1 — Today's Verse for Thursday, August 1, 2024

[enlargemycoast3]

Where are our hearts?

Matthew 9: 37Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few;38therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

1 John 2: 15Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

Matthew16:24Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 25For whoever would save his lifeg will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 26For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul? 27For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done

If there are any ties to this world in a Believers life, the function and need for the gospel will be of little or no importance to him. Today, the souls of many await a laborer to be sent so that their eternal end will not be destruction. Though God is a good God, patient and long suffering regarding sin, many Believers have grieved Him greatly. Their hearts have loved another greater than that of the Father. Choices are given everyday in life, but there is one choice that will be judged from the highest level of Authority for Believers and that will be at the Judgement Seat of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:10) when we as Believers will be judged according to our works, whether we did what was given to do. Will you have already received your reward while here on earth through your self conceived works, or will you receive your reward in Heaven given through obedience in what was given to do by the Lord. (Matthew 25:14-30, Revelations 22:12) Where does our obedience stand, today? We have all been called to go and make disciples. If you know in your heart that there are ways you have been assigned to aid and help in advancing the Kingdom, please respond in obedience to the greatest call that has ever been known to men.

John 21: 15 When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

16Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”

17The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.

[dreameroftheblue]

And guilty I may be But don't give up on me In the wake of the Odyssey We will still be thick as thieves You and me, still thick as thieves

[cherubchoirs]

Lucifer, at his Fall

Having been consumed by his own flames of adoration, Lucifer has been left a hollowed husk of ash and cinder. Until the end he maintained to his angels that God would rejoice in their rebellion against Hell, that this test was meant to purify them in fire to come out as flawless gold in the strength of their convictions. Only once he plummeted from Heaven, agonizingly devoured by his own fire, did he realize how deeply, irrevocably wrong he had been. He never believed God could hate, and now he was the subject of his unmitigated wrath with the angels he had dragged down with him. Here, in a last plea for mercy, he reaches out not to God in his perfect hatred, but to his fellow angels, that they might deliver him from such evil. Soon after, however, he would be cast down to Hell with all his followers, with only Michael coming to bind him.

[hagelwolke]

[arthursfuckinghat]

Do you think about Arthur reuniting with his family in the afterlife. Sorry do you think about Arthur being together with everyone he lost and no longer being in pain. Do you think about Arthur getting to see his son again. Do you think about it.

[resuswhore]

💞 would love to open a handsome boy's lifeless mouth, finding it grey with hypoxia, and clip a pulse ox monitor right to his tongue like he was my pretty puppy 💞 feeling the chord and the hard plastic as I press my warm, hot mouth over his cold, limp, grey one to give breaths 💞 using the clip to pull his slack tongue out of his mouth and airway, so I make sure all of my air reaches his pretty chest 💞 doing compressions and watching the clip bob, taking his tongue with it, as his body spasms under the effort 💞 maybe I get to slide a tube down his throat, using only my hands of course, getting to guide it down is airway and into his lungs all on my own, no scope, the process intimate, my hands digging around and manipulating his tongue and jaw to get it in place right 💞 getting to take that tube down and use it, kissing around it, forcine air through it 💞 maybe I get to see some fluid drain out of it like a spout as I do compressions or turn him on his side 💞 getting to see his mouth full and used 💞 getting that pretty puppy mouth all pink again so I can kiss him softly 💞 what a dream 💞

[creature-wizard]

If you are the kind of person who would actually prefer to live in a world where you get to go to Heaven while other people will inevitably go to Hell to be tortured for eternity than to live in a world where everyone simply ceases to exist after death, you are fundamentally the type of person who is very okay with throwing other people under the bus for your own personal gain.

[ranticore]

i really love the 'it came to me in a dream' moments when writing.. i had just made the main human knight character for this story and named him but had no appearance in mind until i woke up this morning already 100% certain that he looks EXACTLY like george harrison

[rhapeseuhans]

[Lvl 30 Patreon reward] Hua Cheng and Xie Lian having a nice moment under a tree, for @neutronstarchild <3

[Patreon]

[vroomian]

Oh dear. Yeah Yrz arrived to heaven as a being of pure power and information. The seraphim had to quanrtine him for the sake of the other, lesser, angels. They shoved him into an archive only seraphim can enter and made him an archivist, and expected him to be grateful for the honor.

Yrz arrived in heaven and found it a cage.

(The real tragedy here is that if anyone had asked, Yrz would’ve loved to be an archivist with minimal contact to the outside world! But they didn’t ask. And they continued to not ask, even after Yrz got control of his new body. They don’t let him out. There’s no windows. No door. They don’t even ask him if he’s happy with this arrangement. All requests and pleas ignored with soft sympathy. Deciding what Yrz should do. The arrogance is breathtaking.

As if Yrz is a doll to stayed where they placed him, and not a furious angel with access to a lot of dangerous knowledge, and more than enough will to use it.

The only thing Yrz loves more than learning is his freedom.

If there’s not door?

Make one.)

[immediatebreakfast]

"God grant that we may be guided aright, and that He will deign to watch over my husband and those dear to us both, and who are in such deadly peril. As for me, I am not worthy in His sight. Alas! I am unclean to His eyes, and shall be until He may deign to let me stand forth in His sight as one of those who have not incurred His wrath."

Mina...

Mina what the fuck are you talking about?

God doesn't deserve you Mina. It doesn't.

God doesn't deserve to dangle the promise of eternal peace to you. All righteous fearing woman capable of running towards ancient evil to save your dear friend. Insessant, and intelligent fiend who is all kind towards her love, and loved him with all of her might when he was not himself.

Don't blame yourself for the assault, and never think that you are guilty for not having the means to stop it. Mina can't tell herself "if I had been better" she can't. How many times must she torture herself with thoughts of hellfire that are so close in her mind, yet far in reality.

Mina tells that she is not worthy of His sight when god should grovel at her feet for forgiveness. How dare He to make her suffer like this. Mina is not a Martyr nor a Saint. She is not Saint Inés calling for the sword to fall so she can be freed, nor Saint Águeda screaming in joy as she finally died.

Mina's suffering is not holy, it's human. It's so human that it hurts to read. How were her ambitions in life greedy to incur god's wrath upon her? Why must she become another footnote on Dracula's horrible quest for power? (Why was Lucy not saved? Why?)

Mina is losing hope in herself when she is the most strong. She can't let herself become comfortable at the idea of a violent end if it means to be seen in god's light again. Mina can't become suicidal to beg and pray to the being that abandoned her in her most traumatic moments.

Mina may think that she doesn't deserve god, but it's god that doesn't deserve Mina.

[averyghe]

They are basically what they are… Animal spirits. Not much to say huh

[carmineflauros]

I win

[extracontentmediareviews]

What's going on with the Character Designs from Zero Escape: Virtues Last Reward???

My first and remaining impression is that these designs are all over the place. The only reason they have any sense of cohesion is because of…I don’t even know…the overall presence/weight of The Nonary Games story? Besides the artist’s style there is absolutely nothing tying these characters together visually — to each other, or to the general world of the Nonary Games. If these designs were presented to me without context I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you anything about the game, let alone think they came from the same world. Costumes felt random, determined solely by the designer’s personal taste that loosely fulfilled some generic arc-type brief (i.e Alice is the “sexy one,” and K is the “robot,” Quark is the “kid” etc). Design choices offered no insight or legitimate tie-in to characterization, roles, or backstories. Adding a single line about “being a circus ringmaster” (that isn’t even true) to Dio’s dialogue does not justify his obvious visual gimmick that had nothing to do with his actual character. Luna felt like her outfit wanted to tie in visually with Dio’s but to no substantial avail. Alice (wtaf) and Clover’s “sexy” outfits have absolutely no believable tangibility to their jobs, and what the heck is on Quark’s head? That’s never actually explained. In almost every case, it felt like the designs were more interested in being individually jarring and “technically” strong (i.e use of silhouette and self-contained motifs) than harmonious to the game’s tone, genre, or story. 

All that being said, I do acknowledge the presence of all the characters together in the promo art is certainly an effective one. Looking at the casts in the other two games (without having played them yet), it also seems like this is the style: a roster of disjointed visual archetypes. Even if that is the case, I can’t recommend this particular ensemble as a good example for cohesive cast design. 

I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention how poorly Sigma’s name has aged (in this year of our Lord 2024).

---

(I played Zero Escape: Virtue’s Last Reward on the 3DS in its original 2012 iteration, in 2024. For the sake of prose, I will be referring to Virtue’s Last Reward interchangeably with The Nonary Games. Overall, I found the game more mentally pervasive than anticipated and I did enjoy it. However several elements felt frustrated in terms of presentation, visual design choices, and narrative pacing)

[inamindfarfaraway]

I can perfectly picture a Batman: Wayne Family Adventures two-partner that properly introduces Harvey Dent, Two-Face, their relationships with Bruce and vice versa. But I can't draw in the slightest. So I'm going to script it and you'll have to use your imagination. It’s a little longer than the average WFA two-parter. But given how many thoughts and feelings I have about Harvey, I’d say it’s impressively concise. For me. If you like how I write Harvey, I recommend my fanfic spotlighting him as a teenager, compared to which I must warn you this script is positively fluffy. Read it on AO3 here! If you want to draw any of this, please tell me in advance and use the updated original post or the AO3 fic, not necessarily your reblog.

A Second Opinion

Part 1

[Panel one. Vertical rectangle, full screen. Nighttime. The exterior of an abandoned building that is notably more decrepit on the right side, Two-Face's current base of operations, from a distance and high angle. The Batmobile is parked outside. Bruce as Batman is seen on the rooftop from behind, striding stiffly toward the skylight. A speech bubble floats in the air above him.]

Barbara: Are you sure you don't want backup?

[Panel two. Barbara as Oracle watches with a frown of wary concern at her desk in the Clocktower.]

I know these confrontations are very personal for you -

[Panel three. Bruce leans over the skylight seen from below it, about to kick it in. His fists and jaw are clenched, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed sharply; even for Batman on a mission, he's in a bad mood.]

Bruce: I'm fine. I have him right where I want him.

[A speech bubble floats in the space below the panel.]

Harvey: I have him right where I want him!

[Panel four. Fade into a flashback. In stark contrast to the dull and dark blues, greys and blacks of the present scene, the flashback panels are full of light, saturated and warm colours. Harvey Dent stands at a round red table outside a café on a sunny day, beaming. He's a handsome, sturdy man with neat, short black hair, a semi-formal brown suit and wide brown eyes. He was seated, but has risen and slammed his palms down on the table in his enthusiuam. Slightly low angle, like the camera is on the table, and to the right so we have a better view of his left side. A gold wedding ring gleams on his finger. His introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent, District Attorney. Gotham’s best lawyer, technically and morally.’.]

And think of the implications! If the Salvatore Maroni can face justice, so can anyone.

[Panel five. He paces a little behind his chair, gesturing animatedly. Motion lines trail and curve around the other way behind him. His right side is now in profile. Same angle, but pulled back to see over the shoulder of a younger Bruce wearing a nondescript black shirt.]

If his empire can crumble, so can any criminal organization or corrupt institution, no matter how powerful. This trial could be a beacon of hope for Gotham. Proof that the law can actually help people, that the spirit of it is alive.

[Panel six. Opposite Harvey, Bruce is sitting comfortably. He has notable eyebags and less light in his eyes than Harvey, but smiles in earnest admiration.]

Bruce: I think you're right. Maroni used to own the city, but ever since you, Jim and Batman started working together...

[Panel seven. Side shot of both of them from Bruce's right and Harvey's left, showing them down to their legs. Bruce leans forward. Harvey has sat back down. In the background, their memories conjure a vision of Batman and Harvey shaking hands before the Bat-Signal. The figures' lower halves fade to translucent above and behind their real counterpart's heads. That Harvey is smiling too and the one leaning forward, while Batman's mouth is a flat line but his eyes are soft.]

things have changed more than I could have imagined.

Harvey: I just hope we can keep it up. Maybe in a few years, Gotham won't need a Batman.

[Panel eight. Close-up on the right half of Bruce's face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of shock and vulnerability, although he isn’t offended. He has simply never considered being able to end his crusade before. Panel nine. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Bruce: Do you really believe that?

[Panel ten. Closer front shot of Harvey at eye-level. We can now see that he actually does have bags under his eyes. He's more pensive and his smile drops.]

Harvey: Yeah. I mean, Bats is a great guy. I don't want him to just disappear. But his methods...

[Panel eleven. Deep shot. Two petty crooks run through an alleyway at night while Batman looms behind them atop a ledge, a huge, hulking silhouette crouched animalistically with piercing white eyes and clawed fingers raised to pounce. The scene is somewhat abstracted to highlight the criminals' emotions. The alley walls seem to be closing in on them and Batman's curling cape flows into the surrounding darkness. Angle is above the very small-looking criminals, but below Batman such that his striking, soulless eyes glare right at the reader. Harvey's speech bubbles are in the top left and bottom right corners, framed by the blackness.]

fighting violence with violence and terror with terror... they're hardly ideal, are they?

[Panel eleven. Harvey places his right hand on Bruce's left arm in pride, who is too busy processing to return his smaller, softer smile of personal affection. Side shot from Harvey's left and Bruce's right that cuts them off at the torso.]

In my opinion, the work you're doing with the Wayne Foundation does better at lowering crime rates in the long run.

[Panel twelve. Over-the-shoulder shot again, Harvey's this time to show Bruce full of love, relaxing and leaning into the touch.]

Bruce: Well, in my opinion, you're a better person than me or Batman.

[His second speech bubble descends into the empty space.]

And I’d love to see the day Batman can retire.

[Panel thirteen and fourteen occupy different vertical halves of the screen and the same horizontal space for half of their lengths, the former higher, the second lower. The first shows Harvey from the right cut off at the thighs, in a courtroom, delivering some kind of unwritten passionate declaration; on his left and in the background, the defendant, the aforementioned crime boss Maroni in a nice black suit, holds an opaque bottle labelled as cough medicine and smirks viciously. The second is a close-up of Harvey’s head on the floor. Only the right half of his face is visible, the left turned away, and he is howling in unfathomable agony, tears streaming down his cheek. The stem of his speech bubble reaches down to the top of panel fifteen. This is a straightforward frontal shot of Bruce in the present. He stands tense and grim, poised to throw a Batarang with his right arm. Silver moonbeams shine through the broken skylight. Layered in front of the panel’s top border and behind Bruce, Harvey’s scream appears to ring through the cowl’s bat ears and extends continuously offscreen in extra large, blood-red lettering. The bubble fades around it to make it stand against the background.]

Harvey: ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Bruce: Two-Face.

[Panel sixteen. Same angle of Harvey and Two-Face. The left half of their face is ravaged by raw, pink chemical burn scars and has a bloodshot eye with burned lids; even their right eye is sunken and shadowed with a menacing glint; their hair is the same on the right, but bleached white, longer and wild on the left; they wear an angular, elegant suit divided vertically in alternating black and white. They’re smiling smugly, posture calm, confident and commanding. Their right hand aims a pistol at Bruce, and the camera. The other hand, bereft of a ring, holds their two-headed coin. Their introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent & Two-Face. All the drive. Fractional sanity. Half the morals, or less.’. The outlines of their speech bubbles are smooth as usual on the right and rough and scribbled on the left when both alters in the system are in relative cooperation - a dual consciousness referred to as ‘H/TF’ in the script - completely smooth when the still goodhearted, but deeply troubled Harvey is speaking alone, and completely irregular for the much more merciless, callous Two-Face personality alone.]

H/TF: Bats! Let us guess: you didn’t bring any backup because you have a self-righteous hero complex about us in particular?

[Panel seventeen. Closer frontal shot of Bruce scowling and hunching his shoulders in shameful concession.]

Two-Face: Good. Those Robins are nothing but trouble.

[Panel eighteen. Long rectangle panning down the room. Bruce and H/TF are in the background as H/TF gesture with their left arm to two men dressed like high-level businessmen in the foreground, tied to chairs with a gun pressed to each of their heads by H/TF's identical twin henchmen. The captives are bruised, cut and slumped in exhaustion.]

H/TF: Now, take one step toward us and the hostages get it. Don't go feeling sorry for them. They work for Oswald Cobblepot. His reform is fake -

H/TF and Bruce: Obviously.

H/TF: And they've already told us everything.

[Panel nineteen. Horizontal side shot from Bruce's left and H/TF's right, to frame the hostages between them.]

H/TF: But if you go after us, you'll lose your best lead on his criminal activities.

Bruce: And people will be dead.

H/TF: Yeah, whatever.

[Panel twenty. Close shot of H/TF from the left. They look left, contemplating their coin in their open hand. One face is corroded and blackened by acid, the other shiny and clean, both visible as it's drawn in a motion frame while spinning.]

You say that making our decisions based on chance is irrational and unhealthy, but believing in free will isn't all roses either. So many tough choices.

[Panel twenty-one is small box in the middle of the screen capturing the impact of the Batarang knocking the gun out of one of the henchmen's hand. H/TF's speech bubble floats in the space below it.]

There's never a win-win, is there?

[Panel twenty-two, a vertical rectangle. In the lower foreground and to the right, a gleeful H/TF bolt to the slight right of the camera, relishing both their escape and how unhappy their enemy is. In the background, Bruce restrains the armed henchman with a bolas while knocking the unarmed one out behind him with a backhanded blow. His cape billows with his rapid movement.]

At least the coin lets us be unpredictable!

[Panel twenty-three. Angle is essentially Bruce's POV. H/TF glance over their right shoulder, showing their unscarred features twisted in mockery, and sarcastically wave with their gun. They're just beyond the doorway.]

By the way, we're very good at getting two things done at once. You might wanna check your car.

[Panel twenty-four. Outside. Bruce's shadow falls from below the border diagonally over the Batmobile. Its tyres are slashed. Its fuel is leaking out into a puddle underneath it. In the next panel, we see him at eye height past the front end of the car. He has fallen to his knees, head hung.]

Bruce: Oracle? You were right. I need help.

[The black sheen of the Batmobile fades into a flat black background below. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Barbara: You've already got it.

[Panel twenty-six. The first two sentences are in a bubble at the top, connected to the final sentence’s one dead in the middle. She's viewed from behind at a low angle looking up at her computer monitor. Her shoulders are assertively squared. Her security camera footage is split in two; Bruce and the crippled Batmobile are in the left window and H/TF's getaway car (also black on one side and white on the other) racing along a road in the right.]

We've been gathering intel. We know where Two-Face will strike next - and you know him as well as he knows you. Let's make a plan B.

Part 2

[Panel one. Distant establishing shot of a brightly lit black-tie gala in a vast, ornate hall, the tasteful decor dominated by white, light blues and silver. A caption informs us that this is 'The Cobblepot 'Charity' Gala'. Oswald Cobblepot is in the heart of the crowd, shaking hands with some official. Bruce Wayne is within earshot, but nearer the double doors. Panel two is a lower, tighter horizontal rectangle where Oswald and his guests are staring at the camera with tiny black dots for eyes in alarm at the doors slamming open. H/TF’s shadow falls over the floor. Panel three shows that Harvey and Two-Face have invited themselves, holding an assault rifle in both hands. Three smaller vertical panels on alternating sides of the screen show the doors being locked by pairs of Two-Face's minions in contrasting, complemetary outfits and wielding guns. The bird’s eye view of panel seven makes it clear that the guests are surrounded and trapped. Panel eight cuts back to H/TF.]

H/TF: Good evening, scum and enablers. We're -

[Panel nine takes us closer to focus on their - or rather, Harvey's - surprise.]

Harvey: Bruce? What are you doing here?

[Panel ten is a frontal shot of Bruce, like the camera's been reversed in the same position. His confusion is an act, but his concern is real.]

Bruce: I'm the richest man in Gotham and this is a high-society gala. What are you doing here?

[Panel eleven. Side shot that doesn’t show the scarring. Harvey lowers the gun, eyes softening as Bruce reaches out to him.]

I thought we agreed that you still needed treatment.

Harvey: I…

[Panel twelve. Frontal short. Remembering his mission, Harvey loses a degree of control and the two embittered alters lightly push Bruce away and point the gun straight ahead at Oswald with a glare. Motion lines trail from their arm.]

H/TF: That doesn’t matter! What matters is taking down the Penguin!

[Panel thirteen. Oswald presses a hand to his chest, somehow at once mortified and supercilious. You can hear the melodramatic sad violin. Beside him, his associates are cowering and aghast.]

Oswald: Why, everyone knows that I’m reformed. Attacking me when I’m doing good just proves how far you’ve fallen.

[Panel fourteen. H/TF snap at him furiously, and their speech bubble is large, spiky (still with the different texturing) and has a red outline for emphasis. Their eyes are stylized as flames; their right eye’s flame is orange and the left’s blue. Bruce is giving Oswald an intense sidelong glare. His lettering is smaller and his bubble's outline dashed to indicate that he's speaking under his breath.]

H/TF: SHUT UP!

Bruce: Shut up.

[Panel fifteen. Wide low angle shot up into the shadowy rafters. Damian, Dick and Tim are hiding in their vigilante identities and watching the scene below intently, at the ready. Their speech bubbles are dashed as they’re whispering. Damian is tense like a coiled spring, hand is on the hilt of his sword. Dick’s facial expression is blatantly disdainful of the villain in question, but his position and body language are calmer. Tim is all business.]

Damian: Shouldn’t we -

Tim: Not until the signal, remember? We don’t want to escalate and endanger the civilians.

[Panel sixteen. Close-up profile shot of Dick.]

Dick: Yeah, I hate Two-Face, but Bruce has got through to Harvey before.

[Panel seventeen. H/TF aim their gun with their right hand as their left reaches into their pocket to take out their coin. Their jaw is tight in composed ire. Diagonal angle to show Bruce on their right, overlaid by the gun. HT/F's speech bubble is near their head, but Harvey's is under the panel-dividing horizontal line of the gun.]

H/TF: You have the right to remain silent, forever.

Harvey: Bruce, get out of here.

[Panel eighteen, a square. Bruce is alone in the frame. He folds his arms, Batman's stern, steely presence creeping into his expression and posture.]

Bruce: Whatever you're willing to do to those people, you can do to me.

[Panel ninteen. Same composition with H/TF. They frown, the unscarred features looking regretful while the scarred ones look annoyed and disdainful.]

H/TF: Fine. Just stay out of our way.

[Panel twenty. Close up as they flip their coin. We get the blurring motion displaying both sides again. The next panel is a repeat shot where Bruce’s right hand snatches the coin in midair.]

H/TF: HEY! Give it back!

[Panel twenty-one. Extreme close-up, narrow horizontal parallelogram focused on Bruce's defiant stare. His speech bubble floats close underneath.]

Bruce: No.

[Panel twenty-two. He holds the coin out of reach. The camera is angled over and to the side of Bruce's left shoulder, to put as much visual distance between his outstretched right hand and H/TF as possible, Bruce's body in between them. H/TF’s left hand is balled into fist around the lowered gun while their right gestures like they’re arguing a case in a courtroom. They look resentful, but also coldly resigned. The speech bubbles can extend out of the panel. In the backgroud, some of the guests are depicted as simplified, featureless figures.]

H/TF: They aren’t worth sticking your neck out for. Nobody in Gotham is -

Harvey: I learned that the hard way.

Bruce: And I’ve learned otherwise. This won’t make things better, Harvey.

[Panel twenty-three. Two-Face fixes the gun on Bruce with a sadistic, unhinged snarl that’s distinctly his own.]

Two-Face: Listen, Wayne, I don’t care for you a bit. Give us our coin back or I’ll -

[Panel twenty-four. Bruce raises an eyebrow.]

Bruce: But what if it’s good heads?

[Panel twenty-five. Two-Face freezes. A ‘Twitch’ sound effect is at the corner of his right eye. Panel twenty-seven. A henchman aims his own gun with nervous eagerness.]

Henchman: I'll get your coin for you, boss!

[Panel twenty-six. The vigilantes leap down from the rafters. Dick's already thrown a Wingding to disarm him that flies downward rotating and seems to cut the shape of the panel, which has a tapering lower end.]

Dick: No!

[Large red 'BANG!' sound effect between panels. Panel twenty-seven is a small box in the middle of the screen showing the Wingding knocking the smoking gun away a split-second too late. Panel twenty-eight. Bruce and Harvey in the background and the bullet in the foreground are centred. Harvey slams into Bruce and knocks him down with his full weight, briefly putting himself in the path of the bullet.]

Harvey: Bruce!

[Panel twenty-nine. Long, vertical rectangle panning down from above the vigilantes standing in dramatic heroic landing poses at the top of the frame, wearing varyingly emotive expressions of shock, to Bruce lying propped up by his elbow and Harvey on his hands and knees at the bottom. The discarded assault rifle hits the floor between Harvey and the vigilantes with a 'Clatter' sound effect in yellow, uneven text. The coin slips out of Bruce's hand with a motion line to rest between him and Harvey. Panel thirty. Angle at eye level with Bruce and Harvey. Bruce sits up. He stares at Harvey with shining eyes and the beginnings of a smile as he processes what just happened, and what didn’t precede it.]

Bruce: You saved my life.

[Panel thirty-one. Angle is behind Bruce’s head. Harvey avoids eye contact, showing Bruce his unscarred profile. He’s solemn and though he too has a relieved hint of a smile, it doesn’t reach his eyes.]

Harvey: You never stop trying to save me. It was the least I could do.

[Panel thirty-two. Harvey’s POV. Low angle, tilted up at Bruce on his feet, offering his hand to help him up. We can tell that it’s Harvey’s perspective with both eyes because the left half of the image is dim and blurry due to the damage the acid did to his left eye. The speech bubbles are exclusively on the right.]

Bruce: It isn’t too late, Harvey. You can still heal. You can get better, be better.

[Panel thirty-three. Close-up on the right half of Harvey’s face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of tentative, wary hope and raw vulnerability. He has wanted to end his crusade throughout its duration, but never been able to. Panel thirty-four. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Harvey: Do you really believe that?

[Panel thirty-five. Side shot that now only shows the side shot of Harvey’s face. Bruce kneels down be closer to eye level with him.]

Bruce: Yes. Always, I’ve been where you are. Feeling like you can never be more than all your pain and anger. But if you want a second opinion, I think you’re a better person than you know.

[Panel thirty-four. A square in the middle of the screen. Harvey’s right hand reaches out to Bruce’s waiting one, but lingers, tense and trembling, above the coin. Panel thirty-five. Vertical rectangle. Harvey shrinks in on himself, hunched over with his face buried in his arms and hands clutching his hair; perhaps he doesn’t trust himself not to pick up the coin and give Two-Face a means to make harmful decisions, just can’t make another choice of his own or both. Around him blackness with spiky, scribbled inner edges consume the screen like reality is fracturing or dissolving, or some all-consuming destructive force is coming for him.]

Harvey: Just… just take us to Arkham. We deserve it. We need help.

[The black extends, replacing the white background. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Bruce: You’ve already got it.

[Fade into panel thirty-six. Horizontal rectangle. Distant, high angle. The black lightens to purple and becomes the night sky, which is warming to pink at the first moment of dawn. Harvey is handcuffed, about to enter a police car on his right. A cop is escorting him. However, Bruce has his left arm around his shoulders and they’re both in relatively good moods, similar to how they were in the flashback.]

Harvey: When did you get so optimistic, Mr Gothic McBrooding?

Bruce: Someone has to be. And hey, I had a good teacher.