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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on May 24, 2020 15:03:01 GMT -7
Deep within the more industrial district of the area and not far from one of the city's larger docks where a great deal of his work passed through Cobblepot's empire had found it's base. It was a temporary base and living in a warehouse was really not something Oswald had ever envisioned himself doing but this wanted criminal thing was really interfering with his living style. Sadly for all they were clearly incompetent Osward was sure the GCPD would at least find him at the Cobblepot mansion if he started living there again but as with all things the real problem was Batman. He had to try considerably harder to keep out of the Bat's line of sight. The warehouse officially stored cheap tourist merchandise and on the ground floor there were certainly crates and crates of badges and bobble-heads filling the building but they served only as a front for the real business and arranged in carefully made stacks they left plenty of gaps to store Oswalds more illicit items for sale.
Staying there was the price he had to pay for his freedom to get on with business. He'd made the best he could of it.
He'd acquired several trucks to leave outside to hide a second entrance which connected an otherwise hidden basement floor of the building to a back alley so it was easier to come and go and it was in the basement he'd set himself up. There was space to drive in and park to avoid the gang hanging around outside and keep his customers out of prying eyes. He'd had one of his nicer cars stolen from the GCPD lot some time ago and stored it inside the building next to a tank. He wouldn't say how he got the tank, merely that he was waiting for a good offer on it. The boys had set up their own area with chairs, a TV, games, gambling and whatever else they wanted. Oswald let them as it ensured the place never ran out of food or drink and there was always some of the gang hanging around if he needed them. Despite considering it a temporary location Oswald had walls put up on the back of the building as he'd claimed it as his own space and he had at least a couple of rooms with the necessary facilities for him to live there. He had tried to renovate it a bit to provide a little comfort. It was at least furnished with a rough paint job done on the walls but most of his art collection he couldn't risk keeping on site and there was barely room to do such things justice. The sofa set he'd taken from a delivery company who owed him money. The TV had apparently fallen off a lorry somewhere, he didn't care to ask where the boys had found it. The bird cages were his to begin with and stolen from his own home with his most prized possessions living in them. It was a strange contrast to the warehouse itself but it almost helped him forget where he was having to stay.
At this current moment the day was still early but he had dressed up anyway in his best tuxdeo to read the paper as the news played quietly on the TV. His hat was a few feet away hanging from a bird perch but his umbrella rested against his chair by his leg, never far away. He was alone with just a vulture perched on the back of his chair quietly preening it's feathers.
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Avalikia
85 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Pamela Isley on May 24, 2020 19:49:24 GMT -7
Though she was raised in luxurious surroundings, Pamela was far less concerned with the quality of her surroundings than most people accustomed to wealth. Yes, it was nice to have a home with a tremendous amount of space, but why did it matter what the walls look like? So as she approached her destination, she was probably much less troubled by the scenery than the man she was here to meet with, even though he lived here. Yes, he lived in a large, drab box in a sea of large, drab boxes but did that really change anything about him? Perhaps it made him less comfortable, but she didn't care about that.
What she looked like, on the other hand, was a different matter - in that respect she fully embraced the lifestyle of the wealthy elite and would be absolutely appalled to wear anything less than she deserved. An idea that extended even to her car - the red, convertible sportscar she drove was as flashy as they come. She'd considered buying a second, more discreet car when she'd started certain hobbies that she wishes to remain unknown to certain authorities, but after reviewing her options she'd decided that she couldn't bear the thought of driving around in something so drab. Fortunately, Oswald was smart enough to ensure that the parking area was sufficiently discreet. The man was thoughtful like that, if only to ensure that both he and those he worked with remained unarrested, but she appreciated it nevertheless.
Having parked her car, she stepped out and took a quick glance around. Though she was confident that nobody was watching, she was well aware that her presence there would be extremely questionable if anyone was. So she'd taken the precaution of obscuring her identity somewhat - the black trenchcoat she was wearing, paired with a large, floral scarf, was much more nondescript than her usual attire, but the large, movie-star style sunglasses she was wearing did far more. It didn't hide that she was a beautiful and probably rich redhead, but there were plenty of those in this city.
She spotted a man who obviously belonged to the place, though she didn't recognize him. That meant nothing, however, because she'd never cared to notice exactly who any of them were before. But when she saw him standing there, uselessly observing her arrival, she stepped right up to him. Which seemed to worry him, because he began to take a step back, but once he was within range of her pheromones he stopped. "Would you mind terribly helping a lady with her things?" she asked, gaining his immediate agreement. He might have done so anyway, but her pheromones ensured that there would be no argument. He might have been meant to guard the door or something, but surely he could be spared from that post for long enough to help her. Nevermind that she'd had no help when she'd loaded the car, but of course she couldn't be expected to do such things herself when help was available. She opened the trunk of her car and indicated a large box. "Be careful with that - your life depends on it," she commented as he picked it up. This was no exaggeration - within it were many small glass containers whose contents aren't exactly harmless. Well, they were harmless enough to her - she could bathe in the stuff - but if all of those containers were shattered at once then the fumes alone could probably take someone down.
Then, with him in tow, she stepped inside. Spotting yet more men lingering about, she said, "Do let him know that I've arrived." As she let them sort out which of them would do so and gave him a head start, she paused long enough to remove her sunglasses and tuck them away. Beyond the faux pas of wearing sunglasses indoors, she didn't find them necessary. Someone as careful as Oswald would hardly be one to inform his men the full details of who she was, and common goons like them wouldn't know who she was without being told. But because she expected to be welcomed in without issue - she was expected, after all - she only delayed a moment before following behind the man sent to announce her arrival. Upon receiving confirmation that she was to go inside, she put on a smile and stepped into the office.
"Mr. Cobblepot, darling, how are you?" she asked, offering her hand. She turned back to glance at the man still following her with the box but figured that it was best to allow Oswald to decide where he wanted it to be deposited.
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Joined May 2020
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on May 25, 2020 4:41:20 GMT -7
Oswald was swiftly informed via a radio the moment her car turned up. After all she was expected and he didn't let just anyone drive on in without a fight. He trusted that she would have no problem being greeted and shown inside. She did have a way with the men but beautiful women were always a vipers nest of manipulation as far as he was concerned. This didn't of course mean he was unhappy when they came to visit. Particularly when they bring lots of profitable things to sell and are as enchanting as Ivy.
The men in the gang of course noticed her arrival when she passed them, she didn't exactly blend in to the crowd. There was enough gossip between them over who was the mysterious woman who came to visit the boss but no one dared to ever ask Oswald and he wasn't being forthcoming with the information. All they knew was she delivered the poisons and that talking to her would probably put them on the wrong side of the Penguin's wraith.
Neatly folding his newspaper and leaving it upon a table Oswald takes his umbrella and retrieve his top hat before ensuring his suit is straight "Ju, turn the TV off" he says which causes the vulture to raise it's head then briefly glide to the coffee table and step on the remote a couple of times until she happens to get the right button. Who needs voice activated technology when you have birds? He has just enough time to tell the bird "Good girl" before he moved to meet Ivy when she stepped in the door.
No sooner was his hat on his head before he was sweeping it off again as he greeted her with a bow and a kiss aimed at the offered hand. It was all a dance for the high society folk "Ivy my dear, how delightful to see you again" he gestures to the goon with the box to put it on his desk "Over there" and then gestures again for him to get out, no doubt to be a little reluctant to leave but then confused and dazed once he's outside and returning back to work.
Oswald's attention briefly turns to the box to nudge it further from the edge of the desk and inspect the contents safe with the thought that if something had broken his men would be feeling the effects long before the box had gotten near him "Such wonderful things you do like to bring me. Were you able to create the one which makes the paralysing gas in the end?" he likes anything from kills fast, kills slow, kills in a particular way, traceable, untraceable, non-lethal or even sometimes simply oils which makes his birds look nice and glossy. There are so many situations where he can make the most of Ivy's skills.
He has not forgotten his manners though just because his mind is on the money for a moment "Would you care for a drink?" he offers as he's also gesturing to take her coat, clearly intending for her to stay a while "You must tell me of the outside world" he chuckles as if it's all a joke that he doesn't get to go out so much now. He is a little starved for quality conversation when surrounded by the gang.
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Avalikia
85 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Pamela Isley on May 25, 2020 10:33:34 GMT -7
Pamela gave a polite nod of her head as her hand was taken. The dance of high society was always very important, as insincere as the dance usually was. Frequent gestures of respect, truly felt or not, encouraged those who saw themselves as important and therefore unable to endure even the smallest slight to feel like they were being treated in a way that they deserved. Which, in the end, reduced the number of potentially very nasty feuds. They happened anyway, but they would probably happen far more frequently otherwise.
When she noted the hesitation of the man she'd borrowed, she gave him an impatient, "Go." Which was enough to remove his hesitation. He'd be back to his usual self within a minute or two, as her pheromones are powerful but don't have much of a long-lasting effect even on someone who doesn't try to fight them off. She would never do anything to one of Oswald's men that would actually be harmful in any event - at least as long as their relationship remained amicable - because even though she was quite certain that he wasn't yet aware of the details of exactly how she manipulated others with such ease, that was something that could always change in the future and she didn't want to be accused of having treated him poorly when that wasn't her intention.
For similar reasons, as he began to inspect her delivery, most of it in the form of liquids in carefully labeled vials, she casually stepped away from him to give him some space, pretending to take a polite interest in his vulture without infringing on its personal space. It was easier for the pheromones to accumulate and become strong in an enclosed space like this and she preferred letting him keep his head clear. Yes, under their influence she could probably talk him into doing or saying anything she wanted, but she couldn't stop him from changing his mind the second she left and he'd be quite likely to do so if she'd convinced him of anything that went too far against his nature. Better to deal with him straight so that she would know for sure that any deals and so forth would last longer than her presence.
"Of course," she replied when he asked about the gas. He hasn't yet managed to come up with a request that she was unable to fulfill, as her mastery of chemicals is near absolute. Some things are harder for her to develop than others, but that only meant that it took her more time. And the bird oil hadn't taken terribly long but it was still a particular challenge because it had almost nothing to do with poison at all, so it was outside her usual bailiwick. In fact, that request had been somewhat annoying to her for that reason, but she'd complied with his eccentricities in the name of good relations - perhaps he would give her something more interesting to do later if she proved her capabilities now. And she never asked any questions about the purpose of any of his requests - she hardly cared how many people ended up dead because of her work.
And she also had no qualms about handing over the formula for many of her concoctions if they ended up being fairly straightforward to make, as she was strictly a developer and had no interest in repeatedly making the same chemicals over and over again. Though, of course, she did have to ask for more to give up a formula because it was worth more. She hardly needed the money, but at the same time she wasn't a charity and her talents were not cheap.
But that was one of the reasons why Oswald had become one of her favored customers from the black market - he had many things to offer in exchange for her wares than mere money. She herself had an interest in acquiring many chemicals - often the rather simple components she needed to do her work. Some were illegal, while others were not but were better sourced from the black market because of how they were regulated. Occasionally she needed equipment, and sometimes she needed an introduction to a particular person, and the one-stop-shop of sorts that Oswald has become to her is invaluable to her because of her need to keep all of this out of public view so it was wise to limit the number of times she could be caught in a compromising position.
Though at the moment her own needs were satisfied, so she'd only intended to visit long enough to drop off what she'd promised. Still, when he began to indicate a desire for a longer chat she was not opposed to that. He's not the most unpleasant person to talk to in the world because at least he has proper manners, and she can only imagine what it would be like to be cut off from the upper echelons of society. She'd pity him if she'd really cared about him at all. "I wouldn't mind some water," she stated as she handed over her coat as well as her scarf, revealing the simple (for her) white dress she was wearing. It counted as a sundress, but the well-fitted sleeveless top and the skirt that only pretended to reach her knees did absolutely nothing to conceal her utterly perfect figure. And he wouldn't know it, but her choice of drink was an indicator that she was still in mourning over the fact that her relatively new immunity to all poison includes chemicals that she would very much enjoy being affected by, such as alcohol and caffeine. What is even the point of drinking anything anymore? Or at least, that was how she felt about it.
Now that she knew she would be here for at least a while, she took a seat and made herself comfortable. "Oh, what is there to tell?" she asked the air first, "A lot of nonsense, at least if you're talking about what hasn't made the papers. General Vreeland and Mr. Fallbrook have been in a bit of a spat lately. And rumors abound that Pierce Chapman has been spotted with a new girlfriend, but nobody knows if it's true or who she is." Though she knows about all of this, it's clear that she's not very interested in any of it herself. "I did get an invitation to a charity gala a Wayne Manor yesterday," she adds, only somewhat more enthused about it than the gossip, "It sounds utterly ridiculous - they're going to be honoring both the police and the asylum for their 'good work'. But I'll probably go anyways, if only because they're raising money for the rainforest and at least that is a noble cause."
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on May 27, 2020 16:20:17 GMT -7
The vulture is a surprisingly big bird up close, big enough to be quite useful but Oswald doesn't like to let the birds get in to danger. Ju looked quite intimidating and dangerous but like several of his birds he'd mostly taught her to fetch and carry things for him. In his flock Ju could steal the biggest things. She seems perfectly fine with being watched though and as soon as she's accepted there won't be a treat for turning off the TV this time it's back to preening.
Oswald takes her coat and the scarf to hang up on a bird perch because he was currently lacking in other places. He kept everything spotlessly clean though of course so it may as well serve as a coat rack in the meantime. He does pause as he's taking the coat to give her a look when she requests water. He doesn't question it but he finds it strange. He is a good host though and nods politely "Of course"
It should perhaps be noted that even if he is potentially under some minor influence of pheromones he didn't ask if she wanted to stay. He offered her a drink but didn't give an option to leave. Truthfully he didn't even consider her opinion in the matter, he simply decided she was here to talk so she was. He had become accustomed to being in charge these last few years but forcing company to stay had always been the easiest way of keeping people around in his experience. If you gave people the choice they'd leave so better to remove the decision and make them work for their escape. Manners while looking for a polite excuse to exit often had kept the higher classes in his company longer than anything else.
He fetches her water and hooks his umbrella over his arm as he pours himself a scotch. Offering her the water before he chuckles drily at the news of the usual petty fighting as he sits down "It is time enough for Pierce to get on with his next conquest, otherwise he may not be married at all this year. I can't imagine what possesses a man to marry three times let alone continue as such. The man cannot stand to live alone with the silence of his empty mind" He laughs but it turns to a note of distaste at the mention of Wayne "Hrm! Another attempt to act like the caring face of Gotham. It would be of little surprise if it were to turn out his butler was arranging these little things to try to distract from his masters extravagant partying. Wayne certainly doesn't seem like the type to care for anything past the latest shrew on his arm" he snips from his drink quickly and pauses before he can start properly ranting. Continuing moments later "Call these things as they are, a charity event is merely a gesture to praise themselves for eating imported hors d'oeuvres. While the cause is just" the birds live in the forest so Oswald approves of it "with the notable exception of honouring the cops and asylum who deserve nothing more than instant dismissal in the least, I would be willing to bet a sizeable donation that you will find none there who care for the rainforest more than they do for the wine list"
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Avalikia
85 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Pamela Isley on May 27, 2020 21:18:41 GMT -7
If Pamela had any true objections to staying then she would already be out the door. It may be difficult sometimes to come up with polite excuses to leave when someone is insisting that you stay, but that wasn't a difficult problem for her - in fact, she could still resort to one at any point if she decided that the conversation was no longer of any interest. But just as she had indulged him with the bird oil, it was no real problem to indulge him with a bit of conversation. Her schedule wasn't very tight at the moment, and at least according to her he would owe her at least some very minor form of favor for this. Friends don't keep score, but they weren't friends. If he instead thought that he was some kind of manipulator with any true sway over her, he'd find out differently the moment he attempted to insist that she do something she didn't wish to do.
For the moment, however, she'd allow him a conversation. She accepted the water with a nod of gratitude, drinking a bit of it as Oswald mocked Pierce's love life because she was indeed a bit thirsty. "He probably thinks he's in love," she commented in return, her voice nearly a sneer at the idea. Though she herself was at least somewhat on the hunt for a relationship, love had absolutely nothing to do with it.
When Oswald went on to talk about Bruce Wayne, a hint of amusement actually crossed her face. "Either the butler or the gala itself is an attempt to impress a lady," she agreed while throwing out her own theory. A lot of stupid men do a lot of stupid things for that reason, especially if they have a stupid amount of money. She would know - she's exploited that more than once. And it certainly seemed plausible that if Bruce's lady of the month was a lover of nature (though she hasn't heard who it might be, there surely is one) then a party of this kind might be the result.
Though her amusement quickly turned into a frown when he mentioned the event's guests of honor. "I don't know what they're playing at with that one. If Bruce had a sense of humor then I'd assume it was some sort of a joke. The whole thing is a farce, but at least they might accidentally do something actually good for once. So at least there's that." Still, the contempt in her eyes as she said it made it clear that she thought little of their motives even if the result would be something that she liked.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on May 28, 2020 15:36:54 GMT -7
Oswald doesn't think he's manipulating her in to his company at all. That would require him to even consider her opinion. It's not conscious manipulation if he just decides she's staying and acts accordingly with the assumption that he will get what he wants. The fact that doing so usually works means that he automatically does these things.
He does of course have ways to manipulate if he stopped getting wants. The ultimate option likely being the fact that selling poisons to him is not exactly compatible with her current life style and there were plenty of people who would like to know who was providing all these new poisons he'd put on the market. Some of them may even be willing to pay him for the information.
He was comfortable when he had a way to turn people's lives upside down but he had no desire to do that here. This was a profitable arrangement and she hadn't had any problems with the tasks he'd given her. Plus if everyone knew who she was she could do business with them instead of him.
Oswald scoffs at the mention of love "The dream of fools everywhere" not that there wasn't some part of Oswald that wanted these things but when it came to love he was like a puppy who'd been kicked too many times. He couldn't trust anything and he'd bite at the slightest sign of betrayal "If these women to do squander it all on expensive shopping his father's fortune will soon be lost to divorce lawyers the way he carries on"
He raises his glass to gesture his acceptance of Ivy's other suggestion for the gala's motive. She was right, when in doubt with these things assume it was something to do with a woman "The string of women he goes through is bound to have inspired some of these events. Certainly a police, asylum, rainforest theme smacks of last minute planning"
He sips from his drink as he considers all the good the event may do "Somehow I can't imagine it would do enough good to make up for patting the police on the back and telling them they're doing a good job...It may perhaps do more good if they were all to get food poisoning instead" naturally at the point he considers poisoning them all but some of the high society are his clients still or people he can force to be helpful. Would it be worth killing them to turn the police to chaos?...It's certainly tempting.
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Avalikia
85 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Pamela Isley on May 29, 2020 9:58:57 GMT -7
Whether he was being intentional about it or not, Pamela knows when she's being manipulated. Or more accurately, she assumes that she's being manipulated - whether she is or she isn't. Behind her outward show of confidence was a sea of paranoia. In fact, her paranoia was exactly what made her feel so confident - if she was on constant alert for such things, how could they possibly sneak up on her?
Though she did gain at least some level of confidence in this particular relationship because two could absolutely play the game of ruining each other's lives here. He may underestimate her in that regard, but if he were ever the cause of her being found out - well, he's hiding here for a reason. And though she had noted that there was a certain air of impermanence about his setup here - he probably meant to be able to pull up stakes and leave quickly if he needed to - it didn't merely mean telling someone about this place but how she'd found him in the first place and exactly who all of their mutual acquaintances are. She's new to the criminal underground and naive about parts of it work sometimes, but one thing she does know and is good at is people. A competent undercover officer would infiltrate his operation within days. But there's nothing to keep relationships cool quite like mutually reassured destruction.
"There are only so many times a fortune can be halved before it doesn't count as a fortune anymore," she remarked with a slight shake of her head. True, even the most idiotic of the wealthy people in Gotham had a prenuptial agreement as a matter of course, but as anyone with money also knew any agreement or contract - no matter how well-written - was subject to litigation and it really did depend on who could afford the best lawyer at that point. And when you stood to possibly gain millions of dollars, how was it not at least worth a shot? And then when you added the amount of corruption that was deeply embedded into Gotham's legal system on top of that, you simply couldn't assume that a prenuptial agreement was worth the paper it was written on in this city. Even she would consider getting married for that reason, depending on the exact circumstances.
She simply nodded to his observation about the seemingly thrown-together nature of the various elements of the gala. Then again, she'd seen worse before - charity events were always odd affairs because people felt that many of the normal rules of parties among the wealthy could be thrown out for that reason. To get on the guestlist for such events, one normally needed to have not only money but also a certain kind of a reputation, but if it was for charity then the guestlist tended to expand to anyone who could be assumed to have enough money to afford a properly sized donation. The invitees were also more likely to be in the media as well because, naturally, the wealthy want everyone to see how good and generous they are. And when it comes to special, honored guests, when it's a charitable event then, of course, the thing to do is to pretend people of one of the more unfortunate classes are important instead of the usual practice of honoring someone who is a member of the elite class themselves but happens to be visiting from out of town, or it's their birthday, or they have some other excuse to be extra important for that occasion.
"Well, perhaps we can hope that if they are told that they're doing a good job, they'll believe it," she commented because it would certainly be a plus if the police decided that they didn't need to improve even further upon what they were doing. Not that they'd managed to impress her with their competence during her own run-in with them, but it would definitely be good if Batman continued to be the main thing she felt like she needed to worry about. He was bad enough on his own.
Having said that, her expression became amused as she added, "But don't tempt me, Oswald - I would get caught." Because it would be so very easy for her to poison the entire party if she wanted to - either with something as mild as food poisoning or something more severe. But while she was sure that there won't be a single person at the party that she wouldn't mind seeing dead, and a great number who she would actually enjoy seeing dead, if she did something so obvious on that scale then while she's not sure who would be sent but she's guessing it would be an organization that could pose much more of a challenge than the local police. It would certainly be satisfying until it caught up to her, though...
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 3, 2020 15:21:49 GMT -7
The thing about a temporary base for him while he's rich, powerful and used to the finest things in life was that he still wanted the comforts of home. When money doesn't matter you don't really care if doing that means building a few rooms, gutting a warehouse to fit your needs or even if you lose the furniture while fleeing from the police. It would be inconvenient and he would be angry if he were sold out. He doesn't want to have to abandon everything he'd had built but the birds could be released to fly free if needed. The warehouse wasn't the only place he stored his goods. His car could go fast enough to attempt a get away in though it was quite distinctive as it was a classic with some modifications. It wasn't the only one car he'd had back in the day but even if couldn't recover another it was still replaceable. If anything it may be harder to get another working tank but not impossible. With the exception of the birds there was nothing in the warehouse he couldn't lose and replace later. Everything is temporary if you don't care about it and can just buy, steal or make another.
It was still some level of trust that Ivy knew where he was hanging out currently and that she could come and go so easily. As the gang was also in the building there were certain circles where information such as where to find Oswald could be acquired if people asked the right questions and were willing to pay for it. Such people tend to get guns pointed at them if they drop by uninvited though and Oswald doesn't do business at the warehouse with anyone he doesn't already know.
"You have...never been tempted to the arm of the Wayne boy?" Oswald asks with practised casual curiosity "Or is your eye fixed upon someone else?" they were practically gossiping, it was a common thing for people to ask about. At the same time Oswald didn't really care, he was just fishing for information.
He snorted for the comment about the police "As if their egos need further stroking" he sips from his drink but then chuckles as she too is tempted by the idea of killing everyone. She seems to have a disregard for life and only care about not getting caught, he liked that, he could understand that "We can but fantasise" he laughs "I do believe my dear you would only blossom upon capture, after your inevitable escape of course"
He acts like he's suddenly remembered something and he gets up to go to his desk, digging in to one of the draws to select a jade green lipstick case, clearly not something he's made for himself but not an uncommon item for the rich who decide even their makeup needs to be expensively hidden. After several versions of his umbrella he had got quite good at fitting things in to small spaces and hiding them in items "There is a certain freedom to the end of the charade" he says as he walks back towards her "however should the situation arise" He presses the top and bottom of the case and twists the lid around. Nothing until a second later Oswald's phone buzzes. He pulls it out and quickly taps in the password and then turns it around to show a little map with a dot centred on the warehouse. He snaps the lid back in to it's usual place and the dot disappears. He's trying to reassure that it's not simply tracking all the time. He offers her the case "Where you would appreciate the aid in a escape or simply some back up. You would have my services" she could naturally just call him but sometimes these situations aren't conductive to a conversation. He usually charged for offers like too that but if she gets caught he still wants to keep her for himself. What better way to do that but to try and ensure he's there at the time? Of course he hasn't considered that she may be crazy but then not caring if people live or die seems perfectly reasonable to him.
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Avalikia
85 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Pamela Isley on Jun 4, 2020 16:26:43 GMT -7
At the mere mention of Bruce Wayne, Pamela's nose immediately wrinkled in disgust. "Absolutely not! The man is a fool and a bore," she stated instantly. Of course, she'd never gotten to know the man properly, but they'd been in the same circles for long enough that she knew the man's reputation in quite some detail from second and third-party sources. "And even if I could stand him, the only thing he really has to offer a relationship is money, and I already have that," she added as if it was only natural to think of romantic relationships in terms of what you could get out of them. Which it was, at least among a certain subsection of the wealthy.
"If you must know, at the moment I am sizing up my options. There are a few possibilities, but none that I am completely thrilled with. I keep feeling as though there may be someone better I'm overlooking..." she answered, trailing off. As with any socialite, gossip and trading questions like that were practically a hobby for her. Of course, the answer she gave now was far more honest than the one that she'd normally give one of her 'friends' - she had an image to keep up with them, while she didn't have to hide as much in front of Oswald. Not that she never lied to him, but most of the time she didn't see a need to and lies are always most effective when they're carefully nestled among so much truth that it would be difficult to isolate it.
"And what about you? How is business?" she asked in return, as she considered that to be an equivalent question. She'd certainly never ask him about his love life - she assumed that would be a sore subject so she wouldn't touch it - at least not while she was attempting to be friendly. Though she definitely didn't expect him to answer the question she did ask in any but the broadest of terms, though she didn't care about the details anyway. She did, however, actually care to some degree about how his business was going if only because he'd become an asset to her - the better he was doing the better potential he had to be useful.
Though there was an overly long pause after his statement about how she would handle being captured. This is because her first, gut-level instinct was to get very offended at the very idea - what makes him so certain that she'd be captured in the first place?!? But she was just as quick to remind herself that she was talking to a veteran criminal who knew much more about that side of things than her. Was her capture inevitable? Of course, she would hope not! But she wasn't unaware just how severely she'd already been violating the law and that there were those who would attempt to stop her. She'd surrounded her activities with a veil of secrecy, and learned much from her initial brush with the law - she was lucky it was only a three-month stay at the asylum, easily ended by 'good behavior'. Still, even with all that in place, the odds were probably against her and something could easily go wrong. Especially with Batman in the picture - she had no idea if the preparations she had in place would be effective if he darkened her door again. In the end, after that pause, she simply stated, "Perhaps you're right. Though, naturally, I'm not eager to find out."
Though even as she was keeping her reaction to that carefully bridled, he had gotten up and was fishing something out of his desk. She was quite curious about it, but she held her questions and simply waited to see what he was up to. The lipstick case wasn't immediately impressive to her eyes at first look - she was certainly one in favor of expensively hiding many of her belongings, especially those she carried with her - but when he demonstrated how it was used her eyebrows lifted. "I see," she said, accepting the case and looking it over for a moment. "You wish to be my knight in shining armor and ride to my rescue?" she asked, shifting a doe-eyed look of appreciation in his direction, "I'm touched!" Though the words weren't said completely seriously, and she didn't even bother to hide it, because she was well aware of why he was doing it - she was an asset to him, one that he now wished to protect. This didn't offend her at all - in fact, she'd been hoping to become something of that sort to him.
She knew full well that she was new at this, and though she was self-confident she also knew that, realistically, she might make blunders. And though she would prefer to be fully independent of any aid, she'd be a fool to not accept an additional tool provided by someone else. She'd see it as a personal failing on her part if she ever needed to use it but, just in case, it was good to have. "Oh, but now you've given me such a lovely present and I have nothing to give you in return!" she added with a frown. Which was an absolute lie in her mind because she'd already done so many small favors to feel like she was owed a big one, but she could use it as an excuse to give him something nice enough that he might feel obligated to do something else in return as well. Making someone feel indebted to you was always a fun and lucrative activity.
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49 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 10, 2020 15:02:38 GMT -7
Oswald chuckles as Ivy called Bruce a bore. Naturally he agreed but he was always pleased when others hadn't been taken in by the fool. The idea Bruce wasn't wanted for his money though Oswald understood less. He didn't see it as a trait to look for in women, if he could take the money that was a plus and he had no interest in common folk but most rich people wouldn't give him the time of day. Women wanting him for his money was really the only hope Oswald had of getting a date. That was an idea he didn't wish to think about though so he remained puzzled by the concept that she wouldn't want someone with money.
"I am sure you will have your pick of the bunch" he says politely before dismissively waving his hand at the question of how business was going. As if anyone needed to ask "Booming as ever. Who knew selling weapons would be more profitable than corporate meetings? Considerably more entertaining too" he's naturally not going to go in to details of his business.
Of course Oswald believes Ivy will eventually be caught. He was and he considers himself to be much better than anyone else. The problem was never the police though, they were mere child's play at cops as far as he was concerned. The problem was Batman coming and sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. The man was not stopped by lawyers nor courts and he simply hadn't been able to find out enough about Batman to have an effective leverage over him yet.
He actually squawks a laugh at the idea of him as some knight coming to the rescue "Oh, perish the thought my dear! I don't imagine you would submit to the idea of becoming a damsel in distress and I am no one's idea of prince charming" he laughs at the idea. He wasn't trying to hide his nature anymore, he was no white knight and he was quite proud to be nothing so cliche. Plus he was trying not to insult her with the gesture "No, no. I'm sure you have your own plans, consider it more a tool to use. Whether you wish for fire power to silence the police or perhaps a jail break here, a selection of lawyers there or even some evidence tampering. There are better ways to solve these problems than with a sword and a horse"
With a small chuckle at the last part Oswald returns to his drink "That's quite alright Miss Ivy, had you known it would ruin the gift. Make me more of your dastardly concoctions and we shall both be happy and richer than we already are" he takes a sip from his drink before giving her a smile "On the subject of which, how are you with mind altering mixtures? Perhaps altering moods? Joy, anger, paranoia and the sort?" he has a surprising amount of interest in poisons that don't kill people but there were so many uses for these things. Make everyone crazy happy and frame the Joker? Make someone so angry they murder their wife and ruin their own life? Even just make people addicted so they'll buy more? So many uses.
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Character Info
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Avalikia
85 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Pamela Isley on Jun 11, 2020 15:09:55 GMT -7
Unlike Oswald, who could probably come up with an endless number of uses for money, Pamela's needs and wants were surprisingly affordable for someone born to so much wealth. What she craved were almost strictly things like power, knowledge, influence, and other things that could not be purchased. Money certainly helped with those things, but especially given the way she preferred to go about getting them the price tag for that was limited. Most of the physical objects she wanted but did not already own were more a problem of the legality of a private citizen owning them without having what they were doing with it carefully scrutinized. She did have a taste for expensive clothing, and there was also her exotic plant collection, but those things were practically cheap compared to what she could afford, so her inheritance and the money she was incidentally making from the deals she's been striking were more than adequate for her needs.
This wasn't to say that money wouldn't be a factor in finding a man who would be useful to her, simply because a man born into money often knew how to behave and how to treat her. Such a man would be more likely to be found among the upper classes, though what she would really want was a man with connections and resources. She'd take his money too, of course, but that wouldn't be the goal - and she simply didn't see Bruce Wayne as having much besides money to appeal to her. "I could get anyone I wanted," she said with the weight of stating a fact. She probably would avoid going after someone who was already in some sort of a committed relationship, if only to avoid being labeled as a homewrecker and having to deal with the social ramifications of that, but she could get them, no question.
"It doesn't surprise me at all - there hasn't been a point of human history where someone didn't want to kill someone," she responded when he joked about business success. She was always quick to notice the faults of humanity, as that was the exact reason why she thought they deserved what she dealt to them. Not that her plants didn't compete ferociously with each other when resources were limited, but they did so purely for the sake of the survival of the fittest, unlike all the terrible people who seemed to surround her.
When he laughed she had to fight off the instinct to visibly cringe - it was quite fortunate that she was quite good at that sort of thing. The man really did live up to his nickname, though she knew better than to say that out loud. There was a reason why he never made the list of men she might have an interest in, even though he plenty of connections and resources. "I understand, darling. If I ever use it, it would be quite the emergency. But I do appreciate the idea of a little backup," she said with some sincerity. She definitely preferred to rely upon herself to the exclusion of anyone else, and because she was more capable than he knew she likely didn't foresee using it in nearly the same variety of scenarios as he did. And she also didn't trust him nearly as much as she pretended to, but especially with problems like Batman running around, more tools are better than less. There certainly could be a situation bad enough that she would decide that throwing Oswald into the mix couldn't hurt.
As he went on to attempt to dismiss her obligation to return the gift for another, she denied him that by saying, "Oh, but that's business - you pay me for that." Though because she was not among company where she needed to hide it, she smiled vaguely at the thought of her 'dastardly concoctions' - she really was quite pleased with what she'd be able to accomplish. She'd already known that she was probably capable of making almost anything she could think up, but doing what Oswald had asked up until this point was practically proof. And it was also quite educational - while she was aware that he was probably not using everything she sold him personally and was instead reselling it to others, knowing what he personally found useful as well as sellable to other criminals taught her much about the problems that they faced and what sort of things she personally might want to have on hand for herself.
Though the thought was shortened by his question, and she almost seemed to switch gears as they were now definitely in the thick of discussing business. She sat up straighter in her seat and took a thoughtful sip of her water as she mulled it over. "Oh, well, I'm sure that I could - I've thought of it before. But I decided that it was too much of a parlor trick and not so much useful," she said, then attempted to explain her answer further, "I could make someone feel joy, yes, but why am I doing it? What, exactly, am I hoping to accomplish? People are different, so if you make several people joyful that would have a different effect on each. If the goal is to cause them to forget things they would otherwise find important, or to make stupid decisions, or whatever else then there may be an element of joy involved, but it's better to know what behavior you wish to see so that you may control their reaction. A mind controlled is better than mind altered."
Having explained that, she added, "That being said, I'm excellent at mind control. Though it is difficult." And by this point Oswald would be well aware that 'difficult' means both 'expensive' and 'it might take a while'.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 14, 2020 16:37:16 GMT -7
Oswald truthfully had more money than he could currently use as well, after all there were a lot more things he could currently steal rather than buy. A significant amount of his money was invested in the various businesses he had set up, both legitimate and not so much. That didn't stop him from always wanting more though. He certainly valued power too, likely above all the money but power comes from control and to control someone usually involved some price. Sometimes that would be the money itself, sometimes it would be the thug he paid to provide persuasion or the cop he bribed for information. Money could buy a lot of power.
He believed her when she said she could get anyone she wanted. He'd seen it time and again where a pretty girl fluttered her eyes and suddenly there'd be ten different men clamouring for her attention to compete with. He found it infuriating but he felt that way about most things related to dating. He was sure she could be one of those girls if she wished to. It was just as well that a pretty face mattered a lot less when it came to business and the competition was something Oswald was better equipped to overcome.
He chuckled once more at her comment on the violent history of humanity "It has long been known that the winner of every war is the man who sells the swords. Acquiring items" he gestures at the box of poisons on his desk "And fulfilling the needs of the citizens of Gotham with them is merely the tip of the iceberg in this city" he had quite a lot of business outside of simple buying and selling as well, he was a mod leader of course. A few illegal gambling dens, protection rackets and other such things were just a normal part of the job.
Oswald fortunately sees no sign of the cringe she had to avoid so he remains in a good mood. As far as he can tell Ivy has taken to the idea that it's a tool better that of an offer to help. What sort of help he would be would depend on the situation of course but at the very least it would let him know that she was in some sort of trouble so he could plan accordingly, like ensuring the warehouse is cleared fast in case she gets chatty with the police before he can put a stop to it. He merely chuckles at her desire to provide a gift in return though. If she felt obligated all the better. He imagined it to mostly be the usual empty words of the upper classes though.
He listened with interest as the talk turned to work and she explains her thoughts. He smirked as she said she didn't think it would be useful. Most things had a use in the right hands "Never underestimate the allure of a little happiness. Half the world is run on anti-depressants, imagine if they actually worked" his eyebrow raises but he sip his drink to temper his interest in the idea of mind control and perhaps his caution with the idea because it's not like he's immune "My, ever the endless talents. Do tell me more. To what extent and through what methods can they be controlled?"
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Character Info
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Avalikia
85 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Pamela Isley on Jun 15, 2020 12:51:00 GMT -7
Pamela was quite the accomplished liar, and an important piece of that was being quite good at acting. The ability to pretend that someone's laugh did not have the same musical quality to her ears as nails on a chalkboard was but one example of how being able to display the 'correct' reaction to something enabled her to get along nicely with others - an important skill in a myriad of situations.
It was surprising how effective it was to simply appear to tolerate someone's faults more than most people, as they ended up simply finding her more enjoyable to talk to than most others without being conscious of the reason. This easily led to them believing that they had a rapport with her, which could only be beneficial. On the other hand, she did find it genuinely pleasant to exchange a bit of gossip with someone who she didn't feel the need to censor herself around as much as most people.
Still, that wasn't why she was here, so when the topic shifted to business she was actually even more engaged with the conversation. Though when he mentioned anti-depressants, she gave a slight shake of her head and said, "Well, what I could make wouldn't exactly be like an anti-depressant - it wouldn't cause actual happiness, but the illusion of happiness. Much like how caffeine only gives you the illusion of energy - it doesn't replace sleep. So at best it would end up being yet another street drug people turn to in order to forget their woes, not a cure for anything." But as she explained it, her tone wasn't as dismissive as before - mostly because she did recognize that someone like Oswald might indeed be interested in a new street drug, even though she found the entire concept to be utterly boring herself. She supposed there would be money in it, but as she already indicated she only cared so much about money.
Mind control, on the other hand, was of much greater interest to her personally. And unlike Oswald, it wasn't something that she felt a need to be cautious about, if only because she knew that she was immune to it herself. In fact, trying to make anything she wasn't immune to was a much bigger problem. "To be honest, I don't know the extent - it's quite difficult, and I've only been working at it for two years, and even then not continuously. But just to test myself I made a serum that makes people believe that they can fly. My test subject promptly jumped off of a building," she explained, looking somewhat amused as she added, "The man was known to be depressed..." Which was why her 'test' had raised no eyebrows.
"In any event, I would love to have an excuse to make something specific like that again. I just don't often have a need for it myself, and sometimes the main hurdle is the idea. So if you have anything specific in mind, you only need to ask - if I don't think I can do it, I'll just tell you," she added. She'd attempted to explain to him before all the different ways that her concoctions could be given to someone, but that was something that got technical very quickly. But the gist of it was that the fastest and most reliable methods were the least subtle, and vice versa, and attempting to make a subtle method more reliable or fast was difficult - which, once again, meant more time and money required. That being said, more often than not she could alter anything she made to be administered using whatever method he would want - it just might take some extra time and money.
Of course, the other form of mind control she used was her pheromones, but those greatly depended on her unique biology so it wasn't something easily translatable into something she could give away to someone else, or she would.
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49 Posts
Joined May 2020
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 17, 2020 15:12:22 GMT -7
Oswald was aware of his unusual squawking laugh. Painfully aware. The few times he had genuinely laughed at school the other children made sure he would never forget. It was just another sore point among many and so just as well Pamela acted her part so well.
He was just as comfortable as the conversation had steered towards work "What is real happiness but an illusion?" he replied, gesturing with his drink. He doesn't believe people are happy, just that they pretend to be so why not capitalise on that "I would not dismiss a fresh product to bring to the market when no one else can provide it but if you have something better in mind" he was willing to listen because so far everything she'd made had either been profitable or something he'd squirrelled away for his own plans. Mind control may just be more interesting anyway. Who needs to control druggies when you could control judges.
The fact she'd been working on it for so long, far longer than he'd found out about her skill at making poisons, was an interesting titbit of information. Who was it she wanted to control? Who was it she got to jump to their doom? He'd have to look in to that but he imagined the amount of depressed people who'd jumped off of buildings in the last two years would make the proverbial haystack. Still, it was clearly better than hypnotism which he had heard couldn't make someone kill themselves, that made it very interesting "Hmm, I can imagine a few people I wouldn't mind taking a step too far. Did you pick them for their depression or was there another reason? Is the serum was specific to the idea of flight? No suggestions needed to influence the mind towards the outcome?" he was trying to figure out how these things work but had little knowledge of the biology side of the problem or how the brain worked.
Oswald sipped from his drink as he considered all the situations he could use these things in. Life was so much easier if people did what they were told so if he had things his way people wouldn't have an independent thought in their head. If it had to be tailored to the specific situation that limited things to careful planning. There were some things that could be useful generally. Make prison guards blind to escape if needed perhaps...though in that case it seemed likely better to actually blind everyone "Can it make someone hate a particular person, or indeed love them? How many people could be infected at once?" he wasn't about to go match making but had ideas in mind. If he could sway public opinion to his whim...
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