All Above Board, I Assure You

[shotgunsolutions]

WHO: Penguin and People, potentially you
WHERE: Around and about
WHEN: Back half of September
WHAT: Making deals, making money, making friends (or enemies)
WARNINGS: All penguins are predisposed to criminal tendencies

Nonah, De Chima: Anywhere and everywhere

There was much to be done over the course of the next month to begin the process of securing his position, no matter which city it was he chose to cement it in. The start of that being scouting locations and... opportunities.

Dressed as he preferred, he tended to stand out in most areas as overdressed. But in the financial districts and some of the more well-to-do neighborhoods, no one blinked their eye at a well appointed man casually walking around, regardless of the limp.

He made sure to spend his hours not at work wandering more than just the areas of the city he actually wanted to look at, however. So if anyone recognized him and stopped to speak or remembered him later, it would be an easy half-truth to say he was learning the streets of his new home(s).

Oswald was, in fact, perfectly happy to meet everyone (with one exception) with a happy smile on his face. Very often, though, he could be found stopping to say hello to the many, many, many varieties of birds that just happened to show up when he paused for a few minutes. They seemed to like him like he was a Disney Princess and more than a few followed him, roosting on building edges and trees.



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Locked to Cad Bane - The Iceburg Lounge

[shotgunsolutions]

After this

[Oswald was already sitting there, at the table he'd requested in a darker corner of the lounge. The tables around him empty despite the crowd. For some reason, the staff at the club tended to treat him a bit like a super star and had no issue making his request for a 'private' table a reality.

When Cad arrived, if he did as he was told and asked to 'admire the penguin', he'd be led over to Oswald's table where a bottle of red wine, chilled, sat. The glass in front of Oswald already filled.

Oddly enough, for a place called the Iceburg Lounge and themed after the antarctic ice flows... there were no actual penguins.]

[cadbane]

The grim-faced bounty hunter indeed had used the appropriate phrase to gain audience with his contact. The deal sounded shady but that's the sort of deal he was used to. His own personal style also made him stand out - dressed as he was as if just stepping out of the Wild West. Aside from the fact that he was also very much an alien. A six foot two inch tall, blue alien with crimson eyes and a disapproving set to his mouth.

He nodded in greeting at Oswald, not offering a hand.

"I'm Cad Bane. Looks like we could do some business." His words are straightforward, as is his manner.

[shotgunsolutions]

Oswald didn't bother offering a hand of his own, just gestured for him to pour himself a glass if he so chose.

Whatever this man was, he had the same sort of look as many of Fish's monsters. But the likelihood of him being human was probably low considering the number of people here who were aliens. If he got it wrong he could always apologize later should it ever come up.

What was exceptionally notable was how to the point he was.

"All business. I respect that," Oswald said, nodding and smiling in a pleased manner. "Most assassins I've known have had a favored weapon or specialized style of murder. May I know what yours is?"

[cadbane]

"I use whatever gets the job done," came the reply.

Bane took a seat but didn't touch the drink.

"I'm a bounty hunter, not an assassin. Killing can go along with the job but it's not my focus. Only when it's necessary for success. You're very bold to ask for assassins across the network. I take it you have some other motive apart from simply a hired blaster."

[shotgunsolutions]

"I suppose a bounty hunter could work just as well," he conceded, swirling the wine in his glass in a idle manner while he considered the potential a slightly less focused agent could have.

"At the moment, my motive is finding someone who can live up to my expectations. I wasn't lying when I said I wanted a security consultation. However, it's a rather unconventional one, so I'll understand if you'd prefer not to take part once you hear the proposal."

Locked to Alfie - A bar in Maurtia Falls

[shotgunsolutions]

[Oswald walked in, dressed to the nines and looking very out of place. But he wasn't going to compromise his appearance if he didn't have to. Some meetings called for that. As far as he was concerned, this one didn't. And after all, he hadn't been given a name or a face, so he was having to rely on the man coming to him. Dressing as he'd always been seen on the network was a good tactic to ensure he was met by the right person.

He placed an order at the bar, found a really dark corner, sat down, and waited. His umbrella cane leaned against his leg with the fingers of his right hand tapping on the decorative handle.]

[devoutish]

[Alfie isn't there when he arrives, but he's friendly with the owner, and had told him to look out for - so when Oswald walks through the door, Alfie gets a phone call, and is there in less than twenty minutes, wading through the crowds towards the table where he'd been told that Oswald had settled.]

Mr. Cobblepot, hello, hello - very sorry to have kept you waiting. How's your evening been, mate?

[shotgunsolutions]

It's been just fine.

[He didn't bother to stand and greet the fellow properly, just held out a hand across the table for a polite shake. This wasn't the sort of venue or meeting to hold to that. Not yet anyway.]

Is there a drink you'd prefer to have brought over?

[Yes, he was offering to buy. It was standard operating procedure and he did keep to that.]

[devoutish]

[Alfie shakes his hand firmly, then takes a seat across from him, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table.]

No, mate, I'm all right; thank you. Now - I understand you're looking for security. Consultants, yeah? Information about your weaknesses.

Locked to Danger - The Iceburg Lounge

[shotgunsolutions]

Oswald had, once more, commandeered a private table in the VIP section. The staff ensuring there were no other tables close enough to overhear him and any guests he entertained that night. It was honestly so refreshing to have a place he could go with such a responsive and eager to please service. A home away from home, almost.

He sat at the table, usual bottle of merlot chilled to one side with a glass already poured and second glass set out for his guest this afternoon. He still had a job to get to in a few hours, but he could while away the time before the dinner crowd started with a new person of interest.

tysm for setting this up!!

[mortalweapon]

Danger was used to drawing eyes whenever she arrived anywhere. She was a conspicuous presence — imperiously tall and armored from head to toe in gleaming blue metal, only humanoid in her shape and little else. But for such a heavy-looking thing, she walked with such careful precision as to be almost totally silent on her approach.

"Mr. Cobblepot, I presume." Her words were cool and crisp, enunciated with perfect clarity in that mechanical voice of hers. "Or do you prefer to be referred to as 'Mayor?'"

not a problem at all!

[shotgunsolutions]

The waiter that led her over pulled a chair out for her as Oswald stood politely, leaning heavily on his umbrella cane and waited until she was seated before he resumed his own.

"Mr. Cobblepot is fine. I'm not a Mayor of any city here. It's better to remember that than treat it as if it means anything in this world," he answered, not seeming at all bothered by the thought. It still stung just a bit, but he wasn't going to dwell on it.

He gestured at the bottle, "Do you drink, Ms. Danger?"

[mortalweapon]

"No. I lack a digestive system by design. But I have no objection if you wish to drink. There is no need to stand on ceremony."

It was a straightforward answer to a question she was used to being asked. There were ImPort machines that could eat and drink — but they were made for interacting with humans. The likes of Connor and Markus, who could easily pass for human if they wanted to. Not her though. There was no mistaking what she was.

"I came so that we might speak more candidly."

Locked to Lucian Lachance - September 30th

[shotgunsolutions]

The hardest requirement for the inane ritual to come by was human bones. But only because the effort he'd have to put in to pull them from the freshly dead and clean them. Getting the flesh and heart was as simple as stabbing a random man in a back alley and dragging him to the sight he'd chosen for the ritual. Abandoned warehouses littered Maurtia Falls like some cliched gangster movie, but tonight he wasn't complaining.

He laid out the candles, the bones, the heart and flesh, rubbed nightshade on the switchblade he'd used to murder that poor soul, and the stabbed the heart. He didn't know how many times he needed to stab it, so he did it a few as he said in a very uncertain voice, "Sweet mother, sweet mother. Send your child unto me. For the sins of the unworthy shall be baptized in blood and fear."

A final stab for good measure, and then he stood up and began cleaning his knife and checking his clothes to make sure any blood that may have gotten on it wasn't easily noticeable. Oswald stepped out of the circle of candles and looked around, half expecting someone to instantly spear out of the shadows.

"I should have asked how long I'd need to wait," he mutter to himself with a sign before hobbling over to a nearby crate and sitting down. He had the night free and was prepared to stay the whole time, but hoped he wouldn't have to.

[applewatcher]

Finn had conferred with him on the conversation he'd had with a prospective client. Not a typical request. One they'd usually decline. But, he admitted, they did make unconventional deals on occasion. Fake a death, banish a daedra, that sort of thing. But each still required a soul to be sent to their beloved Father. It remained to be seen whether they could accept the contract.

Still, it was his duty to attend to every Sacrament prayer that reached their Listener. And he always appreciated a chance to wear his robes while carrying out his duties.

He approached the warehouse under cover of illusion, slipping in through the rows of rusting crates towards the dim glow of guttering candles. A man sat there, alone. The one from the network. With the offerings.

Fresh offerings. Perhaps their requirements could be met.

"The Night Mother has heard your prayer." He let the illusion drop, fading into view on the far side of the circle of candles, a placid smile on his face. "I come to you as Her representative. Speak your desire, and we will discuss the terms of a contract."

[shotgunsolutions]

The voice and sudden appearance of the man did well and truly startle Oswald. He stood, one hand going to his heart as the other gripped his umbrella cane for support. Rather than chastise, however, he laughed, "Well. That certainly is an entrance you have there. Wow."

He continued to laugh as he caught his breath and straightened up. Once calmed he strode forward, one hand outstretched in greeting, his limp prominent and giving him an oddly bird-like gait as the whole of his body seemed to compensate for it.

"Oswald Cobblepot. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Representative of the Night Mother."

[applewatcher]

Laughter wasn't an uncommon reaction. He'd seen the full range of responses from clients, from complete paralysis to immediate attack. But this one recovered rather well, didn't he?

"Likewise." He returned the gesture, friendly, but watchful for sudden moves. "Any petitioner who comes forward with fresh offerings for the Sacrament has demonstrated a certain strength of character. Tell me, did you collect the pieces yourself?"

Locked to Claudia and Friend - Le Petit Cheval Rose, Heropa

[shotgunsolutions]

[Oswald had no idea who he was meeting for tea. In the evening. Far past tea time. And in Heropa. A city he had a distinct dislike for in general. The heat and the very Florida citizens were never going to be something he enjoyed.

But it wasn't like he could pass on prospective business associates this early in the game.

So he arrived, dressed smartly in his best suit (of the two he currently had, that would be the one he was dragged to this world in), and spoke to the host. Informing them he was meeting another, possibly two.

He could only assume they'd be the ones to recognize him and wave him over or... something.]

enter just one first :3

[kidsmenu]

[The first arrives alone.

She's a young woman with blonde hair, immaculately arranged high above her shoulders. She is wearing black embroidered on black, a little peplum dress that would suit office work or a first date. Wedges. She has on a ring with a rather gaudy big gem on it, but it's pointed like a claw, curving over her first knuckle.

Some creepy Goth shit, as vampires are wont. But right now, Claudia's cheeks are flushed; she looks alive. She is alive. And she recognizes the man from the video, smiles, comes to his table.]

Bon soir. You are Monsieur Cobblepot?

Re: enter just one first :3

[shotgunsolutions]

[Oswald wasn't a vampire, but outside of being alive, it could be hard to tell him from the glam-vamp crowd when he really got his whole disco-vampire hair and makeup in order. Today he was restrained to his classy suit and some smokey eyes, but that just made his skin look all the paler and the unhealthy darkness of fingernails stand out.

The way he quirked his head up to look the woman over, however, was almost bird-like. The oddly spiked foreword hair reminiscent of a feather crest.]

Yes. And you would be...?

[he held his hand out to give a polite shake if she was so inclined.]

I failed to get your name earlier.

[kidsmenu]

Claudia, [says Claudia, who has never watched James Bond, but still,] Claudia de Lioncourt.

[Close enough. She's always guessed it was flattering when Lestat caught her using his name. She provides the penguin with her hand, placed just so, Expectantly, where anyone from her time period would know instinctively to move and lay a kiss on it. Sure, she's quite aware that Gotham seems well advanced of her time, but she wouldn't be Claudia if she didn't see if the men around her could stand to be made fun of just a little.]

Locked to Boba Fett - The Iceburg Lounge

[shotgunsolutions]

Oswald was making a habit of having meetings at the lounge. It just felt right. Though he if asked why, he wouldn't be able to say. Something about the atmosphere of the place, perhaps.

That, and he was treated like royalty by the staff whenever he came in. Which was always a good feeling.

As had become his usual, he was seated in the VIP section with the few tables close to his own cleared and empty for privacy while he waited for his latest potential business associate to arrive. Apparently calling them assassins was heavily frowned upon by the public at large, even if that's what they were.

[myownprice]

Not too long after Oswald arrives, a newcomer will appear in the Iceburg Lounge. It isn’t hard to guess why he’s there—he’s fully kitted out, with a Mandalorian battle helmet covering his head and non-descript grey armor covering what looks to be a dull blue flight suit. And yet, despite the rather out-of-place-looking armor, the stranger doesn’t look particularly intimidating—perhaps because he’s at least a head shorter than most of Lounge’s other patrons.

The visor of that helmet turns slowly as the figure scans the room, before coming to rest on Oswald in the VIP section. There’s only a moment’s pause before the apparent ‘reputable assassin’ walks over and then stops in front of Oswald’s table with a slight nod. When he speaks, his voice sounds a good deal more youthful than his line of work might suggest.

“You wanted to talk?”

[shotgunsolutions]

The youth of the voice is only mildly surprising. But only because he'd been in the mafia for so long that he understood hitmen had to get their start somewhere.

He gestured at the chair opposite him, "Please. Sit. Relax a moment."

[myownprice]

The young bounty hunter pauses for just a moment, visor still fixed on Oswald as if assessing him—before finally taking the offer and sitting down. He doesn’t quite relax, looking ready to spring back to his feet at any moment, but the current careful stillness seems the most Oswald is likely to get.

“So…” he says after a few seconds of silence. “You had a job in mind?”