[Tim was directed to Oswald from Jacob Frye when he asked where to buy a gun. What he probably should have also asked about is how one starts a conversation about buying a gun.
He's seen American movies, but those always seemed to start in seedy bars or empty parking lots. He didn't really have a point of reference for sitting in your lounge and texting someone. A text message he writes, deletes, and starts over again several times before finally settling on what he hopes is a simple message that sounds like this isn't the first time he's ever bought a gun before.]
Hello Mr. Cobblepot, I was told you're the man to talk to about buying some specialty items and I'm in the market for something special.
[If this were the movies, there would be a freeze framed moment on Jacob pointing Tim in Oswald's direction and a voice over advising the viewer to take note of this moment, it'll be important later.]
Hello to you too, Mr. Stoker.
If special is what you're looking for, why don't you stop by the club around noon. We can discuss your needs.
Today? I can do that and I know the place. I look forward to meeting with you.
[Is he meeting with a criminal? Wait, why is he thinking that? Of course he was talking to a criminal of some sort if he was buying a gun from him! He calms his nerves a little by telling himself that Jacob wouldn't send him to someone overly dangerous.
Regardless of that thought, he leaves a note for Sasha to find when she gets home from work later in the evening. He should beat her home to hide the confession of where he's gone and why so long as nothing goes wrong. It was just a bit of extra security that some alarm would be raised if he didn't make it home for any reason tonight.
Tim is also unsure how much cash he'll need. He takes out a fair chunk of his savings and starts to hide it in various places on his person. It's when he's considering shoving some down his underwear that he stops.] This is stupid... [He ends up muttering to himself and takes the money out of its hiding spots again. This time simply dividing it into four and placing the small wads in each pocket of his slacks and coat.
He puts on a suit in the hopes it makes him look professional in some way. Or at least has the means to afford what Oswald is selling. The fact that he's a dominant should help with that. He doesn't bothering with a tie as he doesn't want to look too formal. Right before he leaves the house he gives himself a bit of a pep talk in a mirror. Alright, Stoker. If old lady Gertrude can get her hands on a bunch of C4 then you can do this.
Not wanting to make the man possibly selling him a weapon angry by showing up late Tim makes sure to leave with plenty of time to get there. In fact he ends up being a little bit early. Enough time to wonder if maybe he should have brought a bottle of wine or a box of cronuts with him or something. Cronuts were great when he was trying to get information from cops. Would they work for a criminal? This is the thought going through Tim's mind as he makes his way to the entrance of the club.]
[When Clockhouse isn't filled with throngs of people under the effects of various house cocktails, the space beneath the streets of Insincerity is quite spacious and open. If this were Gotham, Oswald may have put more resource into making the space function in a less rustic kind of way, but the restriction on time in Insincerity means that would effectively be resources thrown into the wind.
The result of the space under normal lighting is areas that are very polished and chic, especially around the bar and a few mirror-effect tiled walls, though many of the walls retain a very subterranean feel.
Oswald is sat at the bar when his guest arrives--a spiral-bound book open in front of him, a pen in his left hand, and a partially drunk glass of red wine to his right.
If Tim has ever seen Oswald while hosting any of his grand party nights then he'll know Oswald is a man who likes to dress up and stick to the theme of the night, but if it wasn't already abundantly clear, Oswald is someone for whom three-piece suits are his standard attire and not just for parties. Today he's in a dark sapphire look accented with silver cuff links and tie pin, all very put-together, as he always is.
He doesn't leave Tim waiting long, flipping the notebook shut and tucking the pen into the rings on the spine before pushing himself up a stand and taking up the silver-topped cane that had been propped against his stool in one hand as he turns smoothly of offer the other to his guest.]
Mr. Stoker! Welcome. I am so glad you could join me at such short notice.
[This is Oswald in his element; introductions, schmoozing, negotiations. He's infinitely familiar with it all. Plus, it's Oswald's club they're in. What better place to work than out of one's own home, so to speak.]
How may we help one another today?
Edited (When you start a tag in one format and finish in another. Oops!) 2021-03-21 11:22 (UTC)
[As Tim approaches any nervousness he might feel he hides away. Walking with confidence and offering a firm hand in return. Firm, but not intended to be painful as he shakes Oswald's hand.]
The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Cobblepot. [Tim was going to be on his best behavior with the man who might be selling him weapons soon.] After all, you're the one doing me a favor by meeting with me today. And, please, call me Tim.
[Taking a moment to clear his throat Tim comes to a decision to just jump right to the main reason he was here.] I've been lead to believe that you could help me get my hands on some weaponry. I'd be happy with just your standard handgun, but I was curious if you had anything that would work on vampires, dragons, or other such creatures.
[Oswald makes a slight face that easily feigns a kind of humility, a slight puckering of his lips like he's going to say something like 'oh you!' along with a light flip of his hand along a similar vein. Of course, this is all part of the game of business, offering faux flattery, pretending to be too modest to except, offer the same in return, repeat.]
In which case, likewise, do call me Oswald. After all, we're going to be fast friends, I feel! Please--[He gestures to the bar, suggesting Tim take a seat.]--Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Scotch? Martini?
[He hobbles his way around the other side of the bar as he speaks, presuming of course that Tim will say yes to the offer and rather intentionally delaying a response to the query so he has time to turn over the request in his own mind a while.]
[Sitting down Tim very nearly refuses the drink. Until Oswald starts to move behind the bar and he quickly shuts his mouth again. It seemed rude to refuse the drink when Oswald seemed so sure he was about to accept it.] Hard to pass up on a good scotch if one is being offered.
[While he's by no means a bar tender, especially not these days, Oswald understands the need for hospitality, the value of setting the stage and acting the part of a good host even if you're serving your worst enemy. These are the lessons Fish and Carmine gave to him.
Pulling a bottle from the shelf and turning it over in his hand, Oswald sets it down to pick out a glass.]
So, you managed to pick a fight with the supernatural community of Duplicity, is that it? Or are you less on the defensive and more the offensive? [He lifts the glass, giving it a light shake.] Ice?
[Tim peers at the bottle that Oswald has picked out.] With this bottle? I'll have it without please.
[Trying for a relaxed tone Tim leans one elbow onto the bar. Giving a soft chuckle as he thinks over his answer to the question.] A bit of both? Back home I was tracking down something supernatural, but I suppose here it's more defensive as I hear things don't exactly stay dead around here.
[It's a noise that both acknowledges Tim's position without confirming they're of a similar mindset. After all, one of Oswald's closer crew members had been a vampire (before he was sent home), he still employs a half-demon, and his Dominant is some kind of illusion mage. He doesn't necessarily get the supernatural elements, but he has no problem with it.
Pouring two fingers of scotch into the glass, Oswald places the glass down in front of Tim before spreading his hands out upon the bar to prop himself up.]
Is fending off non-human's the primary or secondary need of this arms request?
[Tim picks up the glass and inhales the aroma. Gently swirling the liquid before taking a sip.] That is very good, thank you.
[Not answering right away, Tim takes another sip. Trying to disguise his need to think the question over. Would it mostly still be for defence if he had a weapon he knew could kill a supernatural creature?] Honestly? I'm mostly looking for something that might get them to at least pause and reconsider attacking me. That I have more than just my words telling them to back off and leave me alone. Having teeth to go with the bark can go a long way compared to being nothing but gums.
And calling the guards when they're already trying to beat me just takes too long. [A corner of his lips turn up into a small, unamused smirk. What would Hawke say? If he heard Tim was arming himself so he didn't have to call on the corrupted guards as much? He has a feeling the man wouldn't be any happier with him.] I'd rather not get the city involved with things when I don't have to anyway.
My hope would be all I would need to do is flash it to get anything coming after me to back off and if not? [He casually shrugs. Looking unconcerned with what he's about to say.] Then what happens when they ignore my warning and I have to shoot wouldn't really be my fault at that point, now would it? [Is that the answer Oswald wants to hear? He certainly hopes so.]
[For his part, Oswald has no stakes in any of these particular divides in personhood or different lines in the sand.
He listens to Tim's answer, nodding slowly more in the sense that he understands and follows rather than agrees with the sentiments, though his nods are a little more purposeful at the sentiment of having teeth to go with the bark. Oswald can relate to that.]
Well, I must be upfront and say I don't have anything quite like that to hand and it sounds like the sort of thing that would take a fair while to source, assuming that such a weapon exists at all. Honestly it sounds like a bit of a lost artefact more than a weapon if you're after something. Maybe you need to start to collect yourself a little anti-supernatural toolkit like a vampire slayer.
[He reaches across to collect his own glass, swirling the remaining wine lightly.]
Laying hands on weapons here in general is no easy feat. The last specific request I had for a rifle took almost a month to source and effectively launder. If you're after something even more specialised, it'll take longer and more resources to research. It'd cost you more than just a pretty penny too, I would say.
[He lifts the glass to take a small sip.]
And if you want something quick, it won't be specific and, again, won't come cheap, I'm afraid.
[Unsurprised by the answer Tim nods his head.] I understand completely. Resources can be hard to come by even if they exist. [Especially if you're a submissive. Is a thought Tim keeps to himself.]
What about something smaller and more common? Like a handgun? That should at least scare off any undesirables without powers who think my wallet is worth taking while I'm walking home at night.
[Tim may be a tactful sort of British fellow, but Oswald is proud of all he has achieved, both in Gotham and here. In fact, it's the fine teaching that Gotham has given him that has allowed Oswald to achieve all he has in Duplicity.]
But yes, a handgun is possible. Here--[He flips his notebook open and takes up his pen, drawing three overlapping circles and writing in each (minus the unicorn).]
Which two are most important to you in this particular instance, Tim?
[After a second or two Tim taps at the good quality circle.] This is the only one I'm really concerned about. [His finger starts to hover towards fast, but not cheap then hesitates. He did have two submissives now to consider as well.] This one. [Good quality and cheap.] I suppose I'm not really in that much of a rush. I do have something that will work for the moment.
[And Oswald slaps the notebook closed abruptly before there can be any additional deliberation.]
With more time, we can also source you something more specific. Say, if you have a preferred model in mind. That matters to some people. But if you're simply after a good quality handgun, I'm sure we can manage that.
Additionally, payment--[He shifts a little where he stands, though not from any kind of discomfort and more likely from a bit of excitement.] Cash is always acceptable, but if you have more unique offerings then that can also be negotiated and, in certain cases, help expedite the process.
I have cash. [Did he say that too quickly? He might have said that too quickly. He's just very sure he doesn't want to owe what might be a mob boss a favour. That never ends well in movies.] I work in publishing so I really doubt I have any unique offerings I can make.
[Okay Tim, maybe you were right the first time. Oswald momentarily pushes his tongue into his upper lip against his teeth before giving a slight eyeroll.]
[Tim feels his muscles relax a little at that.] Yeah, I'm afraid the information this city is most interested in reading about isn't all that exciting. Unless you're from some very sexually oppressed society originally.
[Tim nods. That, at least, seemed standard.] Of course. Regardless I wouldn't consider telling them where I got it from. What kind of friend stabs the other in the back?
Or, at the very least, where would I buy another one from if they took one away from me if I did that? Bad business all around.
[Tim starts to reach forward then suddenly stops. Hesitating for a moment.]
Now, please don't take this the wrong way, but-- ah, you are human, right? This isn't some trick and I'm about to shake my life and soul away, right? Because just to be clear - I just want to buy a gun with money. Physical money.
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text; un: ShowStopper
He's seen American movies, but those always seemed to start in seedy bars or empty parking lots. He didn't really have a point of reference for sitting in your lounge and texting someone. A text message he writes, deletes, and starts over again several times before finally settling on what he hopes is a simple message that sounds like this isn't the first time he's ever bought a gun before.]
Hello Mr. Cobblepot, I was told you're the man to talk to about buying some specialty items and I'm in the market for something special.
no subject
Hello to you too, Mr. Stoker.
If special is what you're looking for, why don't you stop by the club around noon. We can discuss your needs.
no subject
[Is he meeting with a criminal? Wait, why is he thinking that? Of course he was talking to a criminal of some sort if he was buying a gun from him! He calms his nerves a little by telling himself that Jacob wouldn't send him to someone overly dangerous.
Regardless of that thought, he leaves a note for Sasha to find when she gets home from work later in the evening. He should beat her home to hide the confession of where he's gone and why so long as nothing goes wrong. It was just a bit of extra security that some alarm would be raised if he didn't make it home for any reason tonight.
Tim is also unsure how much cash he'll need. He takes out a fair chunk of his savings and starts to hide it in various places on his person. It's when he's considering shoving some down his underwear that he stops.] This is stupid... [He ends up muttering to himself and takes the money out of its hiding spots again. This time simply dividing it into four and placing the small wads in each pocket of his slacks and coat.
He puts on a suit in the hopes it makes him look professional in some way. Or at least has the means to afford what Oswald is selling. The fact that he's a dominant should help with that. He doesn't bothering with a tie as he doesn't want to look too formal. Right before he leaves the house he gives himself a bit of a pep talk in a mirror. Alright, Stoker. If old lady Gertrude can get her hands on a bunch of C4 then you can do this.
Not wanting to make the man possibly selling him a weapon angry by showing up late Tim makes sure to leave with plenty of time to get there. In fact he ends up being a little bit early. Enough time to wonder if maybe he should have brought a bottle of wine or a box of cronuts with him or something. Cronuts were great when he was trying to get information from cops. Would they work for a criminal? This is the thought going through Tim's mind as he makes his way to the entrance of the club.]
no subject
The result of the space under normal lighting is areas that are very polished and chic, especially around the bar and a few mirror-effect tiled walls, though many of the walls retain a very subterranean feel.
Oswald is sat at the bar when his guest arrives--a spiral-bound book open in front of him, a pen in his left hand, and a partially drunk glass of red wine to his right.
If Tim has ever seen Oswald while hosting any of his grand party nights then he'll know Oswald is a man who likes to dress up and stick to the theme of the night, but if it wasn't already abundantly clear, Oswald is someone for whom three-piece suits are his standard attire and not just for parties. Today he's in a dark sapphire look accented with silver cuff links and tie pin, all very put-together, as he always is.
He doesn't leave Tim waiting long, flipping the notebook shut and tucking the pen into the rings on the spine before pushing himself up a stand and taking up the silver-topped cane that had been propped against his stool in one hand as he turns smoothly of offer the other to his guest.]
Mr. Stoker! Welcome. I am so glad you could join me at such short notice.
[This is Oswald in his element; introductions, schmoozing, negotiations. He's infinitely familiar with it all. Plus, it's Oswald's club they're in. What better place to work than out of one's own home, so to speak.]
How may we help one another today?
no subject
The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Cobblepot. [Tim was going to be on his best behavior with the man who might be selling him weapons soon.] After all, you're the one doing me a favor by meeting with me today. And, please, call me Tim.
[Taking a moment to clear his throat Tim comes to a decision to just jump right to the main reason he was here.] I've been lead to believe that you could help me get my hands on some weaponry. I'd be happy with just your standard handgun, but I was curious if you had anything that would work on vampires, dragons, or other such creatures.
no subject
In which case, likewise, do call me Oswald. After all, we're going to be fast friends, I feel! Please--[He gestures to the bar, suggesting Tim take a seat.]--Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Scotch? Martini?
[He hobbles his way around the other side of the bar as he speaks, presuming of course that Tim will say yes to the offer and rather intentionally delaying a response to the query so he has time to turn over the request in his own mind a while.]
no subject
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[While he's by no means a bar tender, especially not these days, Oswald understands the need for hospitality, the value of setting the stage and acting the part of a good host even if you're serving your worst enemy. These are the lessons Fish and Carmine gave to him.
Pulling a bottle from the shelf and turning it over in his hand, Oswald sets it down to pick out a glass.]
So, you managed to pick a fight with the supernatural community of Duplicity, is that it? Or are you less on the defensive and more the offensive? [He lifts the glass, giving it a light shake.] Ice?
no subject
[Trying for a relaxed tone Tim leans one elbow onto the bar. Giving a soft chuckle as he thinks over his answer to the question.] A bit of both? Back home I was tracking down something supernatural, but I suppose here it's more defensive as I hear things don't exactly stay dead around here.
no subject
[It's a noise that both acknowledges Tim's position without confirming they're of a similar mindset. After all, one of Oswald's closer crew members had been a vampire (before he was sent home), he still employs a half-demon, and his Dominant is some kind of illusion mage. He doesn't necessarily get the supernatural elements, but he has no problem with it.
Pouring two fingers of scotch into the glass, Oswald places the glass down in front of Tim before spreading his hands out upon the bar to prop himself up.]
Is fending off non-human's the primary or secondary need of this arms request?
no subject
[Not answering right away, Tim takes another sip. Trying to disguise his need to think the question over. Would it mostly still be for defence if he had a weapon he knew could kill a supernatural creature?] Honestly? I'm mostly looking for something that might get them to at least pause and reconsider attacking me. That I have more than just my words telling them to back off and leave me alone. Having teeth to go with the bark can go a long way compared to being nothing but gums.
And calling the guards when they're already trying to beat me just takes too long. [A corner of his lips turn up into a small, unamused smirk. What would Hawke say? If he heard Tim was arming himself so he didn't have to call on the corrupted guards as much? He has a feeling the man wouldn't be any happier with him.] I'd rather not get the city involved with things when I don't have to anyway.
My hope would be all I would need to do is flash it to get anything coming after me to back off and if not? [He casually shrugs. Looking unconcerned with what he's about to say.] Then what happens when they ignore my warning and I have to shoot wouldn't really be my fault at that point, now would it? [Is that the answer Oswald wants to hear? He certainly hopes so.]
no subject
He listens to Tim's answer, nodding slowly more in the sense that he understands and follows rather than agrees with the sentiments, though his nods are a little more purposeful at the sentiment of having teeth to go with the bark. Oswald can relate to that.]
Well, I must be upfront and say I don't have anything quite like that to hand and it sounds like the sort of thing that would take a fair while to source, assuming that such a weapon exists at all. Honestly it sounds like a bit of a lost artefact more than a weapon if you're after something. Maybe you need to start to collect yourself a little anti-supernatural toolkit like a vampire slayer.
[He reaches across to collect his own glass, swirling the remaining wine lightly.]
Laying hands on weapons here in general is no easy feat. The last specific request I had for a rifle took almost a month to source and effectively launder. If you're after something even more specialised, it'll take longer and more resources to research. It'd cost you more than just a pretty penny too, I would say.
[He lifts the glass to take a small sip.]
And if you want something quick, it won't be specific and, again, won't come cheap, I'm afraid.
no subject
What about something smaller and more common? Like a handgun? That should at least scare off any undesirables without powers who think my wallet is worth taking while I'm walking home at night.
no subject
[Tim may be a tactful sort of British fellow, but Oswald is proud of all he has achieved, both in Gotham and here. In fact, it's the fine teaching that Gotham has given him that has allowed Oswald to achieve all he has in Duplicity.]
But yes, a handgun is possible. Here--[He flips his notebook open and takes up his pen, drawing three overlapping circles and writing in each (minus the unicorn).]
Which two are most important to you in this particular instance, Tim?
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[And Oswald slaps the notebook closed abruptly before there can be any additional deliberation.]
With more time, we can also source you something more specific. Say, if you have a preferred model in mind. That matters to some people. But if you're simply after a good quality handgun, I'm sure we can manage that.
Additionally, payment--[He shifts a little where he stands, though not from any kind of discomfort and more likely from a bit of excitement.] Cash is always acceptable, but if you have more unique offerings then that can also be negotiated and, in certain cases, help expedite the process.
no subject
no subject
[He leans in slight, a slow, sly smile on his face.]
After wall, what is a publisher if not a discriminator of knowledge. And knowledge, to some, is a valuable currency indeed.
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Cash is fine.
I did misfire. Derp.
<3
[It's almost a shame; money is always nice, but leverage is Oswald's preferred currency in this city.]
And for your own awareness, I will additionally deny all hand in equipping you should you run into trouble with the SIN guards or LIES. Remember that.
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Or, at the very least, where would I buy another one from if they took one away from me if I did that? Bad business all around.
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What kind of friend indeed.
[He rolls his shoulders as if physically shaking off some unpleasant memories as he tries to relax his jaw a little more again.]
And I couldn't agree more. Especially if this is the start of a good business relationship.
[And here, he extends his hand again.]
So then... Do we have a deal, Tim?
no subject
Now, please don't take this the wrong way, but-- ah, you are human, right? This isn't some trick and I'm about to shake my life and soul away, right? Because just to be clear - I just want to buy a gun with money. Physical money.
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