☂ Oswald Cobblepot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
paxpenguina) wrote2024-09-18 11:58 am
paxpenguina) wrote2024-09-18 11:58 am
[ Oswald & Silco ]
"We--"
The first word arrives like a fanfare announcing his arrival, emphasis poised and held in place as he hobbles (shuffle-thunk, shuffle-thunk; dragged footsteps and cane), straight-backed through the room to stand before Silco's desk before concluding his overture.
"--have a problem."
The city has many problems, and different ones depending on who one is asking. Big and small, circling in the air and steel and bones of the underground metropolis, thrown down from the overground or grown up from the cracked concrete below. There are, always, many problems.
Oswald knows that and he knows Silco knows that. And if someone had come strolling into Oswald's office with that kind of opener, then Oswald would be spitting a demand for specifics because time wasting is a faux pas among men like them.
But for men like them, indulging in dramatics is also a bit par the course, and were their positions reversed, were it Silco stepping up to Oswald's desk with an obvious but ambiguous opener, then there would be an opening of the reserves of patience and pleasantries; an offering of a seat, a drink, scope for small talk.
After all, of all of them Chem-Barons, Oswald favours working with Silco the most, even when their respective enterprises put them at odds. They're men of a kind and no matter what happens on the streets and in the shadows, Oswald holds a deep respect for the old ways of doing business that many who come to the table have shown impatience toward. But it reminds Oswald of his roots, his mentors, and so, if the tables were turned, he always has more patience for Silco.
That doesn't mean it will necessary be the same in kind.
So Oswald waits, head tipped back slightly to peer over his cheekbones in expectant silence, fingers softly drumming over the penguin-hooked silver head of his cane.
The first word arrives like a fanfare announcing his arrival, emphasis poised and held in place as he hobbles (shuffle-thunk, shuffle-thunk; dragged footsteps and cane), straight-backed through the room to stand before Silco's desk before concluding his overture.
"--have a problem."
The city has many problems, and different ones depending on who one is asking. Big and small, circling in the air and steel and bones of the underground metropolis, thrown down from the overground or grown up from the cracked concrete below. There are, always, many problems.
Oswald knows that and he knows Silco knows that. And if someone had come strolling into Oswald's office with that kind of opener, then Oswald would be spitting a demand for specifics because time wasting is a faux pas among men like them.
But for men like them, indulging in dramatics is also a bit par the course, and were their positions reversed, were it Silco stepping up to Oswald's desk with an obvious but ambiguous opener, then there would be an opening of the reserves of patience and pleasantries; an offering of a seat, a drink, scope for small talk.
After all, of all of them Chem-Barons, Oswald favours working with Silco the most, even when their respective enterprises put them at odds. They're men of a kind and no matter what happens on the streets and in the shadows, Oswald holds a deep respect for the old ways of doing business that many who come to the table have shown impatience toward. But it reminds Oswald of his roots, his mentors, and so, if the tables were turned, he always has more patience for Silco.
That doesn't mean it will necessary be the same in kind.
So Oswald waits, head tipped back slightly to peer over his cheekbones in expectant silence, fingers softly drumming over the penguin-hooked silver head of his cane.
no subject
A client, implicitly, which always makes things more complicated when additional hands are involved.
Regardless, Oswald lifts a hand to seemingly wave that point aside.
"As troublesome as that is, you're right we can work out compensation for that inconvenience some other time. After all--" He pauses, smiles widely, then spreads both his palms forward in Silco's direction, "--I consider us... friends."
A word that carries much weight and multiple meanings, enough that as Oswald trusts this will feel like approaching the true crux of the matter.
After a moment, he sighs. Long, deep, enough that it makes his shoulders sag as his eyes move to the far upper corner of his gaze while worrying a back molar with his tongue. This is bothering him in a way that it really is a problem that he'd prefer not to have to deal with and, in point of fact, would likewise prefer not to have to Silco entangled with. And yet--
"No, my real issue now is the problem this has caused me with Finn. Because your little hooligan certainly isn't rummaging around in his business. And, I'll admit, it shows I really do have the superior stock on the market, however..."
He pauses, narrowing his eyes because this is where the ice does start to get thin.
"You understand this sends what I'm sure a particular kind of message to our mutual associates. Unintended, I am sure, but one that is being communicated regardless."
And if there's one thing Oswald does not abide by, it's the implication that he is a weak player in the game.
no subject
Ah yes, it certainly does, doesn't it? Thin ice indeed, Silco feels a bit like he is on a precipice, because to outsiders, who are not always privy to the intricate network of deals and organizations, this may look like Oswald's organization was weaker. Those who didn't know that Finn was a part of Silco's own network, or that the local terrorist was also Silco's. Those who didn't know would see it, the way he was being targeted explicitly.
Silco wondered if more of his hairs were going white from the stress of it all. There were talks he could have, but both parties involved, Finn and Oswald were well aware that there was only so much control Silco could... would enact over her.
Which made this complicated, didn't it? Because what could she steal, if it wasn't what they already had? It wasn't like they needed more, and convincing her was going to be that much more difficult. "Hm, yes, I don't think it's unreasonable to make that connection."
Which just meant, they needed to have something to get that message sent elsewhere. "The issue is, of course, that there's not much that Finn has that we do not, of course, you can see the logic, I'm sure."
That was the problem, wasn't it? They needed to change the logic. "It would be far easier to do something about it, were he to have a..." his hands spread, as if he were offering Oswald a gift here. "New line of industry. I am quite certain he wouldn't say no."
He doesn't like this any more than Oswald does, really. Giving him an in on a Chembaron? That's not ideal, but... would he allow their two organizations to go to war over Jinx's fancies? No, not that either. Would he tell her to stop?
Also absolutely not. No, this was the easiest pathway to ensure the hierarchy remained in place, and people knew who the big players were. After all, if Finn is untouched, it also puts him on the same level as Silco, and he doesn't want that either. "If he is a... middle man, it could perhaps ensure that any... particularly sensitive tools would disappear under his watch, instead of yours. I could see a friend of mine using that to great advantage, don't you?"