#ozcobblepot

How could one building be so big? Caught red handed and dragged to a back room, she could still hear some of the music breaking through the sound proofing. Sitting quietly, hands folded, eyes forward staring into the table until he shows up.

God damnit. God fucking damnit, Riley. What's the rule? Avoid the mob. Plausible deniability is leverage and you have none. How stupid do you have to be to try to steal from the Penguin's nightclub?! The one night he's there?!

continued from x.

    “Hey, hey, you’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it out of here, even if I have to do something about it.” The softer tone of Oswald’s voice is rare, only shown near. Looking at Mary through the glass window that kept them separated, a sigh escaped his mouth as he ran his hand through the short bit of his hair. Thinking of a topic to think of was difficult considering the situation. “I know you don’t want to hear my pity, but it should be me in here, not you.”Seconds pass as he pauses. “How much time do you have?”

She doesn’t reach to touch the glass. The phone that lets them speak dangles limp between her fingers, and Mary watches him with faintly glazed eyes. “It should be you,” she agrees flatly, and it’s as much a statement of fact as it is a condemnation.

They’ve changed her medication – playing with the dosage as if she’s an experiment for them – and it shows in the faint slackness of her expression, the way her free hand, usually so fidgety, rests motionless in her lap. Drugged to the fucking eyeballs, the part of her brain trying to maintain its sharpness screaming a revolt.

Drake tirelessly wanders these streets, this dirty filled streets. It wasn’t London. He fully knew that. He left London in a boat hitch-ride to America. He’s an immigrant from England. But; did he think or know that? No. He’s only a child. He wanted to be as far away from that place, that country as possible. To steer himself away from the Ice Angels. In hopes that he could start again. The eleven year old stumbled against the walls of the alleyway. His same home. It didn’t seem like much of a difference. More spacious? Again, it made no difference. His exhuasted body that had transversed through Gotham City for how long? He lost track. He exerted his energy more then he should’ve. 

‘ yep. ‘

floyd leans back, bracing a lazy hand against the drinks table , hovering over a bowl of punch that is , unfortunately , not spiked. ‘ what , you born in england or something ? ‘

There has always been a profound kind of hate within Mary, one that she neither understands nor wants to address. It sits in the very centre of her chest like a vicious animal – as if one day it simply crawled inside and twisted its way around her heart.

She stands now, looking down at the body before her feet, and thinks about how badly she’d like to reach in and carve it out with her fingernails. There’s a cigarette loose between the middle fingers of her hand; she reaches up to scrub at her cheeks with the heel of her palm and sends another three shots into the woman.