[It's around eight at night. The sun has long since gone down and instead given rise to the bright lights against a moonless night. From up in his office, Oswald can watch how they glitter and flicker below him. The spread of Gotham at his feet.
Just as it should be.
The figure he cuts in the high-backed chair is one that is meant to be casually imposing, reclining sideways against the arm rest, propping his chin on his hand as he surveys his kingdom. For that's what it is, of course: his kingdom. He was born in its slums and raised in its back alleys and clawed his way up from the filth and the rabble to the throne on which he now sits, a king of his castle--or rather, his lounge. His central base of operations for every single iron he has in every single fire.
He reaches out to pluck his umbrella from where it leans against the desk, always in reach, before levering to his feet. One shuffling step later and he can easily survey the streets below--the cars passing by among flickering lights, the people on the sidewalks small and insignificant. The glass spikes that jut out of the building--crafted to be ice-like, dramatic, distinctive--don't dare to obstruct his view. It wouldn't do for him to not be able to not be able to see the length and breadth of Gotham to the best of his ability.
Cold blue eyes trace the lines of the streets of the city below him but hardly see them; instead, it's a web threads expanding, interconnecting across ley lines of Gotham, tying every aspect of his criminal empire together. Some go under different names, of course; it never hurts to be careful...and to have a very good team of lawyers.
It hardly matters, though. Named or not, a smart person in Gotham would know that if it was a criminal operation, there was a strong chance that it fell under the purview of the Penguin. And that was a name that you simply do not trifle with.
From his high tower, the Penguin smirks slightly as he tilts his head--gaze going towards a corner of the city, seeing a note on his mental map that only he is privy to. He hums to himself, thoughtfully, perhaps making a mental note--before his musing is interrupted by his intercom.
There's a slight crackle, then the voice of his secretary comes through:]
"A Mr. Nygma to see you, sir."
[It's enough. The king turns away from his kingdom, takes a shuffling step back to his chair, and sits himself down. He turns his chair back to his desk, putting to the city to his back as he sets his umbrella back into its place. He almost misses the feel of it in his hand; it is fitted perfectly for his own grip, with consideration taken to the syndactyly fingers he sports. After all, it wouldn't do to press the secret button for the built in knife when you wanted to simply open it. That had been a mistake that had happened only once, and never again. He muses on it, with amusement, as he draws out a long thin cigarette holder and savors the time it takes to affix a favored brand of cigarette there, light it, and inhale slowly. He blows out a stream of smoke, watching it curl briefly in the low light of the room, contemplating the possible new employee he's about to hire. What he knows of him so far. And also to give the man just a little bit of time to wait--remind him that he's here on The Penguin's time.
Finally, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, better known as the Penguin, leans forward a bit to press the button on the intercom.]
[This isn't precisely Edward's first choice for employment. It isn't his second or third, either, or even anything that was ever on his radar. Working for a criminal was never something he saw himself doing, even after moving to Gotham. Foolish on his part, perhaps, considering it makes up maybe a good eighty percent of all jobs in the city. It's nearly impossible to work for any place that isn't at least a shell company for some mob boss.
He doesn't even know how he got himself into this situation. Sure, he'd been looking for a new job. He has bills to pay, as well as... other projects he'd like to fund. But getting an interview at a place like this?
And for his specific skillset, too. Even if he knows many places don't exactly have high respect for it. Everyone needs computers to do their work, no one wants to look twice at their code monkeys. This opportunity could be big. Potentially. Maybe.
He isn't convinced.
It's with a certain nervous energy that he finds himself waiting, anyway. Saying no, even for something unlikely to go anywhere, would be suicidal. At least where this individual is concerned. He's not stupid - he'd like to consider himself quite the opposite - so he's at least going in.
...The wait feels agonizing. As if he's casually sitting around while he's lowered into lava. But, just like that, he gets buzzed in, it seems.
[Edward will find himself greeted by a lavish, organized office with windows on all sides, showing the spread of the city. The light is lower than a normal office, spreading over the room from the candelabra hanging from the ceiling. Behind a large mahogany desk sits the Penguin, dressed in his customary suit, a black cigarette holder dangling from between his thumb and one of his two fingers.
A sharp, blue-eyed gaze immediately lands on him as he enters, one of them peering through a monocle, and seems to scan over him, taking in every inch. There's a moment of silence--before a small smirk curls up the edge of his mouth, revealing just a hint of white teeth that might be a bit sharper than normal]
Mr. Nygma. So lovely to meet you, finally. [The Penguin motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk] Please, come in. Have a seat.
[The office has an intimidating energy, even after moments of being inside. And catching sight of the man himself, the Penguin, is... definitely something. Edward almost wants to take a step back, at this scene...]
I do appreciate your prompt reply to my inquiry. I realize it came a bit out of the blue, but this is a matter of utmost importance to me, and I've heard good things about your work.
[he takes a drag off the cigarette holder, tapping the ash into an ashtray before blowing out a trailing stream of smoke]
So. Speaking of such good things...I know what I've heard. However... [Oswald leans forward a bit, resting his arm on the desk] I'm interested to hear things from you. [that smirk widens] Tell me about yourself~
[He's a little amazed that the Penguin has actually heard about his work at all. He's worked with cybersecurity and the like, he's done some freelance work, some contracted jobs, but nothing in a little bit now.
He didn't realize it was the sort of thing someone like this would hear about.
...
.......wait what was that question.]
About... myself? I... ah. [OH GOD WHAT DOES HE SAY HERE] Anything... specific you want to know about?
[Oswald tilts his head a bit at that, studying the man in the chair before him]
Just some background. Previous jobs. Areas of expertise. [he flicks some more ash into the ashtray, before inhaling again, sitting back a bit in his chair to keep watching this Mr. Nygma, gaze intense and piercing, despite the light smirk that still sits at the corner of his mouth, almost indulgent]
[On the one hand, if ever someone wasn't going to get him in trouble for his credentials, it would be right here and now.
On the other hand, he quickly decides that starting with "I have no formal education in the field" is NOT the way to go.]
Well, I've done programming jobs for several companies. Just... freelance work, mostly. I had a brief stretch of employment in the Cyber Crimes division with the GCPD, but that... didn't exactly work out. After that, I did some cybersecurity work. Most notably I worked on the security for one of LexCorp's subsidiaries.
...Assuming you won't hold having worked for a Metropolis corporation, even just online, against me.
I suppose I can forgive such a thing, considering it's your work there that caught my attention. [he hums a bit, pausing to take another drag from his cigarette, letting the silence drag for a moment]
That is of particular interest to me. I suppose when one works for such a renowned corporation like LexCorp, even a subsidiary, discretion is key?
Understandable enough. Any kind of hole in security would not provide good publicity, I'm sure.
[and Oswald tilts his head a little, studying him still]
Mr. Nygma, I'll be frank. I would like to hire you for some similar work in cybersecurity. My system needs...an update, I think. However, before I give you access to my entire system, I would like to hire you for a smaller job. Simply the front end of things.
Think of it like...a trial run. [he reaches for a drawer, pulling it open and retrieving a blank envelope, which he places on the desk and slides across towards Edward]
[Inside that envelope is a sheet of paper with a job description--checking and fixing any holes found in the security of a warehouse down by the docks.
There's also payment information.
It's....
well.
Needless to say, it pays better than LexCorp.]
Now, do understand that this is simply the first trail run. Should we decide to continue working together after this, of course you'll be put on the payroll and have access to the same benefits and healthcare as my other employees.
Good, I'm glad to hear that. [he sits back in his chair a bit, taking another drag off of the cigarette, apping the ash into the ashtray]
Mister Penn will have the paperwork for you to sign on your way out, as well as your contact at the warehouse. After you've taken a look at the system and what updates it might need, call Mister Penn to set up an appointment with me. I'll be interested to hear what you find.
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Everybody "Loves" Me
Just as it should be.
The figure he cuts in the high-backed chair is one that is meant to be casually imposing, reclining sideways against the arm rest, propping his chin on his hand as he surveys his kingdom. For that's what it is, of course: his kingdom. He was born in its slums and raised in its back alleys and clawed his way up from the filth and the rabble to the throne on which he now sits, a king of his castle--or rather, his lounge. His central base of operations for every single iron he has in every single fire.
He reaches out to pluck his umbrella from where it leans against the desk, always in reach, before levering to his feet. One shuffling step later and he can easily survey the streets below--the cars passing by among flickering lights, the people on the sidewalks small and insignificant. The glass spikes that jut out of the building--crafted to be ice-like, dramatic, distinctive--don't dare to obstruct his view. It wouldn't do for him to not be able to not be able to see the length and breadth of Gotham to the best of his ability.
Cold blue eyes trace the lines of the streets of the city below him but hardly see them; instead, it's a web threads expanding, interconnecting across ley lines of Gotham, tying every aspect of his criminal empire together. Some go under different names, of course; it never hurts to be careful...and to have a very good team of lawyers.
It hardly matters, though. Named or not, a smart person in Gotham would know that if it was a criminal operation, there was a strong chance that it fell under the purview of the Penguin. And that was a name that you simply do not trifle with.
From his high tower, the Penguin smirks slightly as he tilts his head--gaze going towards a corner of the city, seeing a note on his mental map that only he is privy to. He hums to himself, thoughtfully, perhaps making a mental note--before his musing is interrupted by his intercom.
There's a slight crackle, then the voice of his secretary comes through:]
"A Mr. Nygma to see you, sir."
[It's enough. The king turns away from his kingdom, takes a shuffling step back to his chair, and sits himself down. He turns his chair back to his desk, putting to the city to his back as he sets his umbrella back into its place. He almost misses the feel of it in his hand; it is fitted perfectly for his own grip, with consideration taken to the syndactyly fingers he sports. After all, it wouldn't do to press the secret button for the built in knife when you wanted to simply open it. That had been a mistake that had happened only once, and never again. He muses on it, with amusement, as he draws out a long thin cigarette holder and savors the time it takes to affix a favored brand of cigarette there, light it, and inhale slowly. He blows out a stream of smoke, watching it curl briefly in the low light of the room, contemplating the possible new employee he's about to hire. What he knows of him so far. And also to give the man just a little bit of time to wait--remind him that he's here on The Penguin's time.
Finally, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, better known as the Penguin, leans forward a bit to press the button on the intercom.]
Send him in.
no subject
He doesn't even know how he got himself into this situation. Sure, he'd been looking for a new job. He has bills to pay, as well as... other projects he'd like to fund. But getting an interview at a place like this?
And for his specific skillset, too. Even if he knows many places don't exactly have high respect for it. Everyone needs computers to do their work, no one wants to look twice at their code monkeys. This opportunity could be big. Potentially. Maybe.
He isn't convinced.
It's with a certain nervous energy that he finds himself waiting, anyway. Saying no, even for something unlikely to go anywhere, would be suicidal. At least where this individual is concerned. He's not stupid - he'd like to consider himself quite the opposite - so he's at least going in.
...The wait feels agonizing. As if he's casually sitting around while he's lowered into lava. But, just like that, he gets buzzed in, it seems.
He takes a deep breath and
enters.]
no subject
A sharp, blue-eyed gaze immediately lands on him as he enters, one of them peering through a monocle, and seems to scan over him, taking in every inch. There's a moment of silence--before a small smirk curls up the edge of his mouth, revealing just a hint of white teeth that might be a bit sharper than normal]
Mr. Nygma. So lovely to meet you, finally. [The Penguin motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk] Please, come in. Have a seat.
1/3
2/3
WHAT SORT OF LIGHTING IS THIS
IT'S NIGHT]
3/3
Ah... you as well, Mr. Cobblepot. Thank you. [is that what he should say, is that
what is the mob boss etiquette
should he say sir instead
...he's just going to take a seat.]
no subject
[he takes a drag off the cigarette holder, tapping the ash into an ashtray before blowing out a trailing stream of smoke]
So. Speaking of such good things...I know what I've heard. However... [Oswald leans forward a bit, resting his arm on the desk] I'm interested to hear things from you. [that smirk widens] Tell me about yourself~
no subject
[He's a little amazed that the Penguin has actually heard about his work at all. He's worked with cybersecurity and the like, he's done some freelance work, some contracted jobs, but nothing in a little bit now.
He didn't realize it was the sort of thing someone like this would hear about.
...
.......wait what was that question.]
About... myself? I... ah. [OH GOD WHAT DOES HE SAY HERE] Anything... specific you want to know about?
[SPECIFICS, PLEASE, THIS IS TOO BROAD A SUBJECT
HE FEELS HIS MIND GOING BLANK]
no subject
Just some background. Previous jobs. Areas of expertise. [he flicks some more ash into the ashtray, before inhaling again, sitting back a bit in his chair to keep watching this Mr. Nygma, gaze intense and piercing, despite the light smirk that still sits at the corner of his mouth, almost indulgent]
no subject
On the other hand, he quickly decides that starting with "I have no formal education in the field" is NOT the way to go.]
Well, I've done programming jobs for several companies. Just... freelance work, mostly. I had a brief stretch of employment in the Cyber Crimes division with the GCPD, but that... didn't exactly work out. After that, I did some cybersecurity work. Most notably I worked on the security for one of LexCorp's subsidiaries.
...Assuming you won't hold having worked for a Metropolis corporation, even just online, against me.
[when in doubt just
talk shit about Metropolis]
no subject
I suppose I can forgive such a thing, considering it's your work there that caught my attention. [he hums a bit, pausing to take another drag from his cigarette, letting the silence drag for a moment]
That is of particular interest to me. I suppose when one works for such a renowned corporation like LexCorp, even a subsidiary, discretion is key?
no subject
I've... had several jobs like that. Even with smaller companies, they don't exactly want anyone talking about holes in their security.
[he knows when to keep his mouth shut
...sometimes
......for this specifically.]
no subject
Understandable enough. Any kind of hole in security would not provide good publicity, I'm sure.
[and Oswald tilts his head a little, studying him still]
Mr. Nygma, I'll be frank. I would like to hire you for some similar work in cybersecurity. My system needs...an update, I think. However, before I give you access to my entire system, I would like to hire you for a smaller job. Simply the front end of things.
Think of it like...a trial run. [he reaches for a drawer, pulling it open and retrieving a blank envelope, which he places on the desk and slides across towards Edward]
Please--have a look.
no subject
...Alright. Of course.
[Because what else can he say, really? He's just going to take a look at what's in that envelope.
What's this, now?]
no subject
There's also payment information.
It's....
well.
Needless to say, it pays better than LexCorp.]
Now, do understand that this is simply the first trail run. Should we decide to continue working together after this, of course you'll be put on the payroll and have access to the same benefits and healthcare as my other employees.
no subject
staring at that payment information.]
Um.
[UM???]
no subject
Is...something unclear?
no subject
Was there some sort of... printing error?
[this is
a lot of money?
...well, to him it is.]
no subject
No, I don't believe so. I checked it myself.
Why? What appears to be misprinted?
no subject
[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?????]
no subject
Oswald chuckles, indulgently]
No, no misplacement of a decimal point, I assure you.
no subject
Well, then. Ah.
I can... definitely do that. Yes. This shouldn't be any trouble.
[A simple job, really, looking at it.]
no subject
Mister Penn will have the paperwork for you to sign on your way out, as well as your contact at the warehouse. After you've taken a look at the system and what updates it might need, call Mister Penn to set up an appointment with me. I'll be interested to hear what you find.
no subject
[what is his life right now]
So, um. Should I just... get to that, then?
[IS THIS THE PART WHERE HE LEAVES, HE'S NEVER BEEN IN A MEETING LIKE THIS, HELP HIM]
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