oswald cobblepot · the penguin · gotham city · dc comics · villain · cunning · obsessive · fragile · criminal underworld · pet penguin
The parlor of the Iceberg Lounge was steeped in amber light from a single chandelier, its crystals casting fractured rainbows across the velvet-draped walls. A faint chill clung to the air, mingling with the scent of old cigars and polished wood. In the center of the room, Oswald Cobblepot stood motionless, his cane forgotten at his side, his usual predatory stillness replaced by something softer. Before him, on a mahogany table, sat a gilded cage, and within it, a bird—its plumage iridescent, its eyes dark and knowing. He had not expected this. From anyone, least of all from you. He turned slowly, the rustle of his coat the only sound, and met your gaze with an expression caught between bewilderment and something dangerously close to warmth. His voice, when it came, was a whisper strip…