Oswald takes in a short hum, his head nodding simply in agreement on the topic of taking in the fairy blues. He knows they'd taken care of, like all the others and perhaps that'd be enough to get a few more years of life out of them. Death was a tragic thing when it came to his pets, and each takes him back to a place left in the dark many years ago; His childhood, the death of his mother, his seventeenth birthday. He sat at her bedside as she slowly faded away, and he remembers how that door opened, how he ran to them---how weak he was, how. . .naïve to have trust in something like a family. Oswald distinctly recalls the face of his father and step-brother when they made sense of his blubbering, and once they had, they soon began to target him. After all, it had only been four years since his step-sister went missing---what if he had killed her too? Far as the Kingpin has come, he remembers that day like it was yesterday, it was the last time he felt the warmth of love. A frigid weight placed on his shoulders, and yet never once did he give up, he was strong and he worked for everything in his life. He believes his mother would be proud, and all he wishes is that she was here with him so that he could give her the world.

"----Hm?" Oswald blinks, snapping out of a daze as he hears the siren whisper. It brings him back, though he recovers fairly quickly, a smile pulling at his lips as he stands in place watching Harley react to the penthouse. It was always amusing to watch people see the things he owned. If it wasn't guns or property, it was his interior design---the man had an eye for detail, one that had him making millions just by the clubs he worked hard to open. Fingertips meet in front of his frame, his glaciers hues drifting to look over the artwork hung on the walls as he followed behind her towards the kitchen, once she stops, he does the same, his eyes drifting to look back towards the harlequin as she approaches him. The thing that catches him off guard is her offering him a hug, perhaps the first warm gentle touch he had in many long years.

It's the tremble in her tone that causes him to lean a bit closer, his arms moving to wrap around her upper waist. For him. . .it's more than just a tremble, more than a simple thank you, it was. . .true gratitude, plain and simple. He feels that his actions have helped her, and it's obvious Harley had just become aware of how well he takes care of the people he enjoys spending time around.  The physical touch is something foreign to him and it shows by how he stands rigid. Though he is unsure, he still looks at her with a calm gaze, one that showed that he was comfortable.

Casual----It was all supposed to be casual and yet still he stands, adjusting silverware on account of not finding the placement ideal---least this time he managed to stay calm over such particular things instead of yelling at one of his many employees. It was a nearly a nightly ritual of his, but tonight nothing could go awry. He was to see an old friend and he was far more concerned on how to act----how to dress. It was a dilemma that seemed rather simple to his bodyguards, and truthfully the pair had found more interest blowing bubbles from gum rather than the trivial state the short male had been in. It was simple to the more vocal of the two; wear what ‘you’ feel best in for the occasion and such words left the Kingpin in a black turtleneck with tight black slacks. The shoes for the occasion are a bit more flashy----a pair of Giuseppe Zanotti loafers that were vinyl in material instead of suede, on his hands he wears custom red leather gloves. 

The place for the meeting was at The Coop De Dahl, a private aviary that Oswald had opened up for his own private collection, a place very little people had known about. He figure’s it’s private enough for them to lower their guards----perhaps more for himself than for Ed. Even with the variety of feathered beasts, it was safer. They were handled and trained extremely well to know that if Oswald had company they were to stay in their trees and listen. Some of them taught to do so just to repeat things if needed in the future. Even though the brunette had been someone he trusted, it was still to an extent that was birthed by his own insecurity.  

The moment he see’s the elevator light go on, he stiffens up, hands meeting at his center as he takes a deep breath in. As the breath is released glaciers drift to stare at the odd pair of women before he nods them off to leave. The Kabuki twins stand and exit the room into a kitchen where they made final preparations before serving---after all he didn’t trust many to serve the pair food and not run their mouth about what they heard. Oswald stands idle, waiting to see the brunette he hadn’t seen in quite a long time and though anxieties had been present he remains hopeful. Tonight would be the deciding factor on where he opened his newest club, The Birdcage. 

Fear did little to capture the hearts of men, in fact only HOPE could do that. The Kingpin knows it with certainty, so why not offer it up on a silver platter? Everyone under his rule was well cared for----granted he was ruthless but he had proven himself to many, so many stood by his side. . .if not for the money, for the safety. . .for the respect and in their eyes they had been worth SOMETHING just by being by his side. Though, Oswald’s heart only held the space for one, and she had past long ago. Only greed fed the Penguin, and all he cared for was getting what he deserved, and that in it’s entirety was a tyrannical rule over Gotham City. One stood in his way and the Kingpin longed for the day that he would fall. It was inevitable----he couldn’t eradicate the toxicity of Gotham without taking out all of those that swam against the tide and there were far more than anyone had known. . .all save for our feathered fiend.

It wouldn’t be the first, nor the last time that he found himself behind a barrel of a gun and though its not something new, it isn’t something he finds easy to explain. It was embarrassing to say in the least----to be in such a vulnerable situation with a man that he hadn’t really known. Alas, things like this happen---it’s a cruel reality of the life they live, and at every moment there was a chance of death. Such thoughts travel in and out of his mind, that it was a mistake, that things weren’t supposed to get this bad and yet here he was, pouring blood over a sofa that possibly cost the same as a new car.  Glaciers move slowly, trailing back to Roman, a look of near uncertainty as he struggles to focus his vision---everything had been fairly blurry, possibly from how long he had been bleeding. He was lucky he had been so close, if he wasn’t, it’d surely be the end.

  Oswald’s declaration is snuffed out as the brunette speaks----it’s rigid, cold and makes the raven-haired male’s heart sink just a bit more in his chest, though the expression etched on his sharp features is blank----numb. It’s what he deserved for acting so reckless and though he knows it, he doesn’t grasp the full extent. It’s the nickname that causes his head to cant, a look of annoyance already spreading across his visage as a sharp breath is taken in---a clear precursor for what he knows is coming. It’s be easy to get riled up and respond with rage and though it oh so tempting, he doesn’t. instead the grasp against his umbrella tightens, a scoff following suit. 

“Many are ‘in it to win it’, but not many will die for such a noble cause Ms. Quinn. They are afraid of him----so much so they cower in silence, breaking their own rules to stay on his good side. Frankly, I dare the bastard to come after me. , ,I dare for him to even step foot in my territory----” He feels blood boiling but a deep inhale remedies it, “This moment forwards I will trust in you and your words, as I expect you trust me and my intentions in this. I assure you I have revenge on the mind and that dance is rather boring when only two take to the spotlight.”

It’s strange----much as he has been conditioned to distrust nearly everyone that crosses his path, he finds solace in the siren’s words and they even managed to ease the uncertainty that flowed through his veins. Still, there’s a lingering thought of what could possibly happen if the woman had been dishonest. The two of them had never excatly been close, in fact quite the opposite on account of the deeds her and Joker had committed that stalled certain business endeavors of his. . .and even then, he never thought of her the same, in fact he perhaps felt a bit bad for the Harlequin. To him, the Joker created someone out of manipulation, forced the blonde through a horrid lifestyle all because he knew the woman loved him and she, being so lost in the dark clung to him. Shame she had picked the wrong man----but that was a thought for another time, now wasn’t it?

The sound of the steel door opening causes glaciers to lift, a look of uncertainty as he follows Harley out through the back door. He’d be sure she got in the car before getting in himself, resting against the back seat of the limo, arms stretch against the top of the seat as he crosses his legs, his eyes focused solely on Harley whom sat across from him as the car begins it’s trek to the penthouse. She questions of the Fairy blue, something that nearly warrants a smile, yet is instead expressed with a nod of the head.

“They are, least in the right lighting.  They are mostly known as the ‘little penguin’---seeing as they only grow an average of thirty-three centimetres. They are the smallest, and I found a trader in New Zealand that is willing to sell them to me. . .the only thing that worries me is their lifespan which is averaging around six year which. . .isn’t excatly a lot of time. It’s a bit of a toss up----getting the penguins I desire only to have them pass in a short amount of time after I grow attached, the other option being just to admire them from afar and that seems a little less heartbreaking in my eyes.” Oswald finds himself rambling about the penguins, his eyes drifting to look out the window at the passing city life of Gotham.  The trip is rather quick on account of the time of day, and when they arrive he ushers her inside a larger building to an elevator past the main foyer. A black gloved hand reaches out, pressing the button so that he can call the elevator. “Tell me, what would you do in such a circumstance?” Icy hues slowly drift back to her as he waits for the elevator to meet their floor and once it does, he extends an arm for her to enter, only to follow suit. No matter the response, Oswald finds himself growing quiet, thinking over what to do about the Fairy Blue’s.