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Post by Megan on Jun 29, 2017 15:53:01 GMT -5
Megan had had misgivings about her newest tenant from day one, but nothing had aroused her suspicions quite so much as his request one weekend morning over breakfast in early December that she could introduce him to Adrian Veidt.
Oswald had a handful of very vague excuses that didn't clarify things at all, but the more he tried to gloss over it (and the more put-upon and sour he looked about being asked to provide an excuse in the first place), the more she had decided that it probably was a good idea for Adrian to be aware of... well, whatever was going on there.
"As long as you can be ready to go in on Monday morning," she said cautiously. "Try not to look so much like a funeral director, okay?"
To that end, while she was out and about in the Village later in the day and happened to spot a decent-looking cane in the window of a shoe repair store, she went in and asked how much it cost. A few minutes later, she emerged with it tucked under her arm and carried it the few blocks between the store and home.
"Here," she said. "The umbrella thing's a little weird when it's not raining."
(It was starting to seem like a good idea to get him as much in her debt as possible, just in case.)
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 29, 2017 16:08:56 GMT -5
"You never know, this time of year," he said, a little vaguely. "But thanks. How thoughtful of you." There was a world of difference between carrying a cane for purposes of fashion and actively needing one because you happened to be a cripple, and the prospects of a full recovery were looking dimmer. It was surprisingly difficult to be offended; it seemed that despite very reasonable misgivings Megan was mothering him a little, which was chronologically all wrong, but she didn't need to know that.
He didn't have any clothes that weren't predominantly black and he didn't look forward to the prospect of getting any. All the good tailors were on the other side of the river, and everybody knew him there. Oswald squared a little, looking horribly casual, and tried to hide that he'd been smoking a cigarette not long before. "You haven't heard any rustlings about Monday, have you?"
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Post by Megan on Jun 29, 2017 16:26:00 GMT -5
"If you can come in with me by 9, there'll be time. We'll have to make it past his new assistant, but I'm on decent terms with David; he'll probably take my word on things. I'd be prepared for a security patdown, though."
The look on her face clearly telegraphed that this was a very specific hint and not just a heads-up- if you're planning anything screwy, they'll find out.
***
Monday dawned brisk and clear, with a subway busker playing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" on the saxophone near the Herald Square exit. It was the beginning of holiday tourist season, which lead Megan to walk with her arms held out almost subconsciously to ensure the unusually thick crowd of onlookers gathered almost directly outside the station to look at Macy's seasonal windows wouldn't plow right over Oswald and his cane- not least because it did not seem impossible that he might hit them with it if they did. It was too early in the morning to deal with that.
"Well, there it is," she said, pointing some distance ahead at a vast obelisk of a building. "Once we make it through this crowd, it'll take us only a few minutes to get there."
From inside the window, an animated figure of King Kong wearing a Santa Claus hat began to croon "Let it Snow" while hanging from the side of a wooden model of the Empire State Building, swinging a beaming doll dressed as an angel in his free hand.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 29, 2017 16:58:06 GMT -5
Oswald maintained a calm outward demeanor, mainly by focusing all his deliberate malicious intent down into a knot about the size of a fist somewhere high up in his abdomen and gripping his cane very tightly. It was mostly apprehension around the amount of fuckery he was about to go and do without external support, not at the scenery; hapless tourists were the lifeblood of several intersecting economies in any major city and it was difficult to hate any Christmas paraphernalia that brazenly, enthusiastically tacky. Gotham developed its own asteroid belt of festive programming around this time of year, most of which were a transparent excuse to dress up like jerks, get juiced, and dance badly.
Following along while Megan made a path felt a little like being in the wake of a Zamboni. Oswald looked up -- all the way up -- and forced a smile. It was a mistake.
"Subtle, isn't it?"
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Post by Megan on Jun 29, 2017 17:08:46 GMT -5
"He told me once that he didn't even try to make it the biggest building in the city," Megan commented, following his gaze up. "It was deliberate. He'd rather have a pretty building than play one-upmanship with any of the other rich bastards in this city, so he made sure it was smaller. You can't tell from the ground, but when you're near the top..."
They were only a few blocks from Times Square, and it was as though the city was trying harder than ever to present a joyful, jolly face as the one-year anniversary of the attack approached. The light poles were wrapped in faux pine wreaths, and long banners of lights stretched between street lamps, with snowflake-shaped displays in the center. The Herald Square speakers that extended a good three blocks in either direction were playing a big-band Nutcracker Suite.
"That's Adrian for you. I think he only wants to be as ostentatious as you'd expect," she said dully. "He acts like he cares about all this so people assume he does. It makes them forget to take him seriously."
And indeed, the lobby of the building- despite being bright and overwhelmingly purple and sand-beige- had a strangely sedate quality to it, as though those colors were only tinted over a much more ordinary picture. There was a long staircase that gave the impression of being two sides of a pyramid, with the other side displaying a crashing indoor waterfall that collected in a long pool, and the elevator doors were set in the midst of sandy-looking blocks, but if you looked around carefully, the architecture very nearly screamed repurpose me, repurpose me, I am not meant to be this forever.
"Good morning, Greg," Megan said to the security guard. "This is my... friend, Oswald. He's got an appointment upstairs."
She cast Oswald a brief look to follow her to the elevator.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 29, 2017 17:31:03 GMT -5
Relative to the average corporate Gotham edifice it was positively airy inside -- no Gothic outcroppings, no looming. Suddenly he was homesick. It didn't mix well with his more general dislike. All of it made a convincing psychological portrait the way Megan had glossed it but it wasn't any decent place to do business. The kind of person who'd make their base of operations deliberately medium size to forestall comparisons to New York's other egomaniacs and their gold plaques, but still paid scrupulous attention to personal brand. It was kind of nauseating. If the Veidt building were a person he would have gone after it with a broken bottle. Alienation of affection, sure.
Oswald made a show of looking around appreciatively, but waited until they were in the elevator to unbutton his coat. "Thank you for this, by the way. You're an angel."
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Post by Megan on Jun 29, 2017 17:49:12 GMT -5
"I hope I won't live to regret this, Oswald," she said in return. It didn't even sound like a threat this time- more sad than anything.
The elevator doors opened, and Megan cautiously looked around the anteroom.
"David? Are you there?"
There was no response. Megan glanced back at Oswald.
"Guess we're skipping the middleman. Follow me."
This room was rather more emphatically branded- the walls all looked as though they were made of weathered, carved stone inlaid with hieroglyphs, along with another long, thin artificial pond. There was a set of elaborate double-doors opposite the elevator, open just enough to let a shaft of white light enter the anterior. Megan cautiously approached it and stuck her head in.
"Adrian? I've got someone here to talk to you."
She gestured back at Oswald and opened the door a little wider.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Jun 29, 2017 17:56:58 GMT -5
Adrian started at the sound of Megan's voice and turned around from the window overlooking the city, backlit by the early morning light coming in from the east.
"What- what's going on-"
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Post by Megan on Jun 29, 2017 18:00:36 GMT -5
Megan was herself a little startled- she hadn't actually seen Adrian in a couple of months, so the shorter, much more silvery than golden hair was a surprise. She cleared her throat.
"Mm. Er, sorry to make things weird, but um, this is Oswald. He's... a friend."
She looked over her shoulder at him and anxiously gestured for him to come a little further forward.
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 29, 2017 18:07:05 GMT -5
Oswald brushed his hair back from his forehead, which didn't help, and steeled himself.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Jun 29, 2017 18:11:27 GMT -5
Adrian moved out of the direct line of light and nodded politely, then looked at Megan with a small, questioning frown.
"A friend?"
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Post by Megan on Jun 29, 2017 18:18:11 GMT -5
"Y-y-yes, a friend," she said, glancing back at Oswald."I do have those, and I'm sure he'll be more than happy to explain what's going on here in a moment, but for now I'll just... leave you to it..."
She cleared her throat and took a step backwards toward the door without breaking eye contact, then abruptly turned and scurried out.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Jun 29, 2017 18:20:49 GMT -5
"...right," Adrian said vaguely. Turning to the unusually small elephant in the room, he lifted his eyebrows as amiably as possible. "Oswald, was it?"
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Post by Oswald Cobblepot on Jun 29, 2017 21:09:28 GMT -5
Oswald swallowed. His smile had vanished, which was for the best.
"Right. Oswald. So good to meet you."
Veidt was taller than he looked in photographs, and squarer. Grayer, too, but it made him look distinguished. Oswald hated him instinctively and passionately.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Jun 29, 2017 21:21:58 GMT -5
"That's quite the connection you appear to have made for yourself, Oswald," Adrian said calmly. "Is there something I should be aware of? Miss Elness is not in the habit of acting as a concierge for one on one meetings with me."
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