Needless to say, Edward Nygma had endured a stressful week. Helping Timantha, it seemed, was more trouble than good; moreover, he hadn't necessarily won the favor of a goddess, either. All he had won, it seemed, was public humiliation thanks to Bruce Wayne and his bizarre concept of a prank. Nevertheless, Edward had managed to escape the brunt of that disruption--Tim hadn't fared so well, he had heard--and sneak back from Malibu to his own second home in Gotham.
Well. After a few little venture of his ownRising to the summit of the chic hotel building, Edward's purple gloves slid over the cardkey to his penthouse. He was exhausted. Irritated. Weary. And really, the man just wanted to take a shower, grab a novel, and block out the rest of the world for a spell. Joker's untimely escape hadn't helped the matters that weighed upon his lofty mind, but nor had they hindered any of his plans. Everything was still in motion. All Edward needed now was to reign Crane in before asserting his agenda over Harvey Dent
( ... )
Jackson's eyes lifted from the shelf he was inspecting, keeping the fairly cold expression on his face with a lift of his brow. "I found the means to survive." He commented before turning back to his idle inspection of a bookshelf. "I would dare say I flourished." he said offhandedly, trying for Jonathan's more neutral tone than his amiable one.
His fingers feel over some piece of old russian literature, Dostoyevsky and his mad men. His lips quirked in an almost invisible smile. How very fitting.
"You don't have to lie to me," Edward tilted his head, shooting the other man a green-eyed glance. "You know how I disdain liars." A small smirk graced his lips. He strolled closer to the figure of Jonathan Crane, carefully examining the other man's composite appearance, as he was wont to do. Looking for signs of Crane's interior thoughts. Reading people was an art that Eddie found relaxing.
Something black out the window stole his attention. Small, black, and capable of flight. Edward arched an eyebrow. Just a crow, likely, but even that was odd for their city. Ill omen? Eddie chuckled to himself. Right, of course.
"So, what have you been up to?" Edward languidly walked to the window.
"Were you lied to often?" Jackson asked casually - at least both Jackson and Jonathan had an interest in the workings of other's minds. Jonathan did, after all, make a living out of it.
"Your mother perhaps? Or your father?" He turned, allowing the small smirk to stay in place as he spoke, hands folding behind him. "Business." He answered dismissively when prompted. It was hardly a lie.
Comments 26
Well. After a few little venture of his ownRising to the summit of the chic hotel building, Edward's purple gloves slid over the cardkey to his penthouse. He was exhausted. Irritated. Weary. And really, the man just wanted to take a shower, grab a novel, and block out the rest of the world for a spell. Joker's untimely escape hadn't helped the matters that weighed upon his lofty mind, but nor had they hindered any of his plans. Everything was still in motion. All Edward needed now was to reign Crane in before asserting his agenda over Harvey Dent ( ... )
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His fingers feel over some piece of old russian literature, Dostoyevsky and his mad men. His lips quirked in an almost invisible smile. How very fitting.
Reply
Something black out the window stole his attention. Small, black, and capable of flight. Edward arched an eyebrow. Just a crow, likely, but even that was odd for their city. Ill omen? Eddie chuckled to himself. Right, of course.
"So, what have you been up to?" Edward languidly walked to the window.
Reply
"Your mother perhaps? Or your father?" He turned, allowing the small smirk to stay in place as he spoke, hands folding behind him. "Business." He answered dismissively when prompted. It was hardly a lie.
Reply
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