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 All That Glitters Is Not Gold, Tag: Selina Kyle
edward nygma
 Posted: 11 Mar 2018, 02:06 PM
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Of all the odd little intricacies of the wizarding world, Ed had never quite worked out the riddle of exactly why the purists were so against muggleborn wizards. He’d been told the ‘obvious’ reasons of course, about tradition and status and all of that absolute nonsense, but none of that made any actual logical sense so it had to be something else. After all, muggleborns were in the perfect position to straddle both worlds simultaneously, and surely that ability should be revered and not mocked? Double the knowledge, double the power? Where was the downside? So perhaps that was it then, perhaps it was just jealousy. He’d figured out from experience that most bullying was a way of expressing jealousy. He had been much smarter than the other kids, so of course they had been envious of him and his talents, and that had obviously been why they’d lashed out to him. Yes, that must be the buried truth, it must all be jealousy.

Maybe he’d ask Burke about it back at the Ministry, test his theory against a real purist who still thought the word ‘mudblood’ could do any damage to sensible people.

These thoughts were mulling through Ed’s head as he traversed the far too busy streets of London, mingling amongst the muggles to visit shops and gather supplies: a perfectly simple task that may well have tripped the Minister of Magic himself up if he were to try and blend in properly. So despite what they said, his upbringing had had some advantages apparently. And the idea that he was more adept at something than Oswald, even just at ‘looking muggle’ was enough to give Ed a little boost to his mood, and meant he was smiling to himself as he ducked back out of an electronics shop on the high street. The stereo he’d bought would be entirely useless in their household of course, but it was its component parts that Ed had purchased it for, not the finished product. Another reason Oswald would be useless here – he’d have no idea what to look for without Ed’s technomagic expertise to guide him. Another smile, another flush of pride, as he stepped back among the hustle and bustle of the street.

It wasn’t quite enough to entirely silence his unease at being amongst so many people though. Edward didn’t dislike crowds as such, he just didn’t like being ignored by them. If this number of people were staring directly at him, if he had control of their attention, if their eyes followed every flick of his fingers with perfect precision, he would be, quite frankly, loving it. But while all these people continued to pass him by without a second glance, he found himself more paranoid than anything else. Being ignored wasn’t fun anyway, but the idea that they were all secretly whispering about him once he was out of earshot was one he couldn’t quite manage to shake, even as he tried to lose himself in his own thoughts. He was often much happier in his own head than in the real world anyway.

Still, the concern was seeping in again, and he found his thumb absentmindedly flicking at the silver ring on his left hand, the outer circle spinning silently at the touch and letting him distract himself from fidgeting more obviously as he made his way towards the less busy streets of the city. One did tend to find muggles quite inconvenient when all one neededed to do now was apparate home. Oh well, patience dear Edward, you’re only minutes away.

selina kyle / 597
mostly Ed musings but let me know if anything needs changing ^_^
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selina kyle
 Posted: 11 Mar 2018, 08:46 PM
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N/A


Her mother had never returned and neither had the news. This city was a megalithic pigeon, a civilisation bent on twenty-four-seven illumation, power-hungry energy-consumer. This city: cigarette smoke, the coil of muggle mortality wound tight, silver laid out over brine.

She'd been delegated here - into muggle territory - of her own accord, this time. Muggles were always so oblivious, so blank-slate. It was easier, this way; fewer variables, quick getaways, less magic, because squib-blood made the world of wizards and witches grimace. This was a recovery, discovery, and alienation of delineations. This was a level playing field, and one she was adept at taking advantage of.

She'd woken before the slants of sunlight, inadequate, that filtered between monochrome monoliths - with an imitated city came imitated armour. It hadn't been difficult to slip into the circuit of London's activity, all ghost-grey streets and ghost-grey birds. Muggles lived in their own private simulations, the roar of the subway waves-equivalent but only ever an impersonation. They restricted themselves to the repetitive, the pour/unpour/pour again the kettle, waking with salt-water spangle drops, but the ocean was only ever emulated, here - a caricature, distorted burlesque only shown on television screens.

She'd known the moon, skinned, all her life - she'd known these (non-)wanderers, staticfolk, tinfoil soldiers. She'd known the children of this city; the stalactites, and she was nothing to them.

That was how she liked it. She was switch-flip, these days - insisted that she'd never savoured anything; became practised in scornful passitivty; did what she needed to get by. It wasn't personal, just profit - business. To make a daisy chain, you had to kill the flower.

It wasn't as though she necessarily needed to target him. She'd already pocketed a wallet, a jewelled necklace. Disguised in the swell of shadows of the alleyway's fire escapes as he passed, carting a stereo, it was the motion of the ring that caught her eye; the glint of it in the low light. Her head cocked slowly, easing herself forward to get a better look. If it was of muggle origin, it didn't look it, unnatural, superficial.

The thing practically sung valuable - she'd be able to eat for weeks on that alone.

With a moment's calculative pause, she levered herself over the fire escape's railing, hyperaware of the tension in her ankles, adjusting, knees bent so as to land near noiselessly on her feet behind him. She wouldn't risk snatching the ring from him, not with him potentially being a wizard and all, so she opted for the next best approach - men, as far as she knew, always seemed to crave after recognition; something to stroke their ego.

"Oh my god, is it really you?" Not that she really knew who he was - still, appraisal and reverence were the quickest ways to trust, and trust was the quickest way to get within arms-length. All she needed was to get close enough to get a hold of that ring, but she needed him to be unsuspecting when she did, lest he turn out to be a wizard - could never be too sure, with a ring like that.

She was good at this, by now - at assuming facades. Bright-eyed and outwardly eager, she drew slightly closer, as though admiring him. Anyone enjoyed admiration, after all, didn't they? Plus, if this didn't work, she always had the you look like them alibi. "I'm such a huge fan of your work, you have no idea." She was practically beaming, now; made effort to make her grin look genuine. "I'd ask you for an autograph, but, uh.. Yeah.. Don't exactly have paper."

With a moment's pause, she held out a hand gingerly, still all dewy-eyed, like she was entirely awed by him. "I'm Bridget, by the way." A good liar could be anyone once.

aaa, here we go! a little rusty, lol. sorry!

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edward nygma
 Posted: 12 Mar 2018, 05:22 PM
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Though naturally very observant when he was focusing on something, Ed could just as easily tune out the entire world when he wanted to get lost in his own thoughts. He could set his legs to autopilot, taking him where he needed to go without a thought, keep his eyes vaguely forward to avoid obstacles in his way, and then simply drift off into his own head, chasing ideas and one-sided debates to entertain himself on his journey. Some would call it daydreaming, but Ed would assure you his thoughts were far too detailed and deep and important and clever to be something like that. They were musings on how the world worked and how it should work mostly, and the time he spent considering such things was time very well spent.

So he wasn’t particularly fond of people snapping him out of his reverie either. Even if the culprit was a friend, he would offer a light snap of annoyance In the first instance before reluctantly engaging in whatever conversation they'd brought to him. But when it was a stranger, all he wanted to do was leap into a rant at them, chastising them for interrupting a train of thought of such value it could have held the answers to life, the universe, and everything within it if he’d just been allowed to finish it. He didn’t often actually release said rant of course, but it tended to play in his head while he dealt with the interruption in a more appropriate way.

This time it was a girl, a child, and though he’d missed her first words as he turned to face her properly, he could recognise the familiarty of her tone. And yet her face meant nothing to him, not one he’d ever seen before in photo or in flesh, and he really was quite marvellous at remembering that sort of thing. Then again, enough people stopped him in the street these days to question him about his job or occasionally still his publicly known criminal record, so it wasn’t too unusual to have to suddenly stop and converse with a stranger. It was strange for it to happen on an entirely muggle street though, and even more so for the stranger to be a child. It was entirely possible she was interested in politics though, and it was impossible to tell magical blood on sight (most of the time anyway – the purebloods attempting muggle fashion usually gave themselves away quite quickly). Besides, she was smiling, looking up at him in awe, and honestly even if he’d had enough reason to suspect her, he wouldn’t have wanted to turn away such attention.

“A fan?” he echoed. An unusual choice of word to describe admiration for a political figure. Was that definitely what this was about then? She had said ‘work’ after all, and there were few other things she could be referring to. It was possible she was one of those very odd people who seemed enamoured by the story of his murders – he’d only met one or two of those in his time, but yes they had described themselves as ‘fans’… That seemed unlikely though, it must just be politics, though maybe she was thinking of a particular speech he had made? That would make sense. Maybe he could ask her which one…

Her smile was contagious though, and he couldn’t help but flash one back at her, standing up a little straighter with pride as she asked for an autograph. That certainly wasn’t a common request but he would be more than happy to oblige! She did point out the lack of paper but he was quick to improvise. “Oh, not a problem, give me a moment!” There was a clear twinge of excitement to his voice, even as he tried to keep himself as composed as possible as he dug around in the bag in his hand for the receipt he’d shoved in there a little while earlier. Ripping the bottom from it, he fished a pen out of his jacket pocket, and scribbled an elaborate signature onto the square of cheap paper before handing it across to the girl with a wide smile. “There you are, always prepared.” He’d have to tell Oswald about this. The Minister was always getting stopped like this, but it was not something Ed was at all used to. He’d like to be though, because even this miniature spotlight she was offering him was enough to brighten his day up entirely.

He barely hesitated before reaching out to shake her proffered hand, despite how long it used to take him to accept such a gesture. Before working as the Chief of Staff, he’d had an unfortunate habit of staring at a hand being offered like that as he weighed up whether or not he wanted to shake it for a whole multitude of reasons the other person couldn’t possibly fathom as they rushed through his head. But in his current role he wasn’t allowed to make a choice – you always shook hands whether you wanted to or not. “Nice to meet you Bridget. Now tell me, what got you so interested in politics?” Was it too much to hope that the answer was ‘you Mr Nygma sir’? Probably, but he’d let that little fantasy linger until the moment she proved him wrong.

selina kyle / 894
well played Cat xD
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selina kyle
 Posted: 13 Mar 2018, 05:37 AM
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N/A


Men of this city so often treated women, girls, like Jerusalems - coveted first, then plundered. If given the chance, they'd lay waste to their own backwater bedroom martyr, nailing their wrists to bedposts, seizing their tongue like a white flag, pulling stones from their parapets. She'd seen it, countless times; she'd grown in a world half-doused in that truth, half-distilled toxicity.

Their self-made galaxies lasted too long, flat imaginings of space - women had a horrible tendency to kneel at men's feet, here, like they were always theirs to take. This part of the city was half-full of those women, those paper astronauts, explorers drifting in the margins of their youth, a universe in tow. They all circled the same point of gravity in the distance, but each satellite took a different path - two-dimensional being bearing the weight of man's depth, and ultimately, most were only ever a dot in Orion's belt, an origami Icarus, melting beneath man's orbital violence.

She'd learned quickly not to trust men - their fireflies and neon, mothish words only fluttered uselessly about her.

But this one - this man - he couldn't possibly belong here, in these alleys. He seemed to posh for it all. That wasn't to say he was pleasant, because she'd triggered the emergence of his ego faster than a hair-pin trigger, but at least he was a peg above this side of London's muggle men as far as perversion went. She'd watched too many lay waste to women's lily-white fingers, forget-me-not eyes, dandelion bones, and the tide was just the gag reflex of a living thing - it used to run down the beach and never look back until men came along.

There was a split-second pause as he echoed her, before the girl nodded eagerly. She'd contemplated retreating, recalculating, nabbing the ring when he wasn't looking (or, better yet, following him to see if he did come from someplace rich), but, no. She'd see this thing through.

And he was so blindly enthused by the prospect of it all - it might have been endearing, if not for that same shit-eating grin she'd seen a thousand times on the faces of egotistical fuck-wits, authoritarians, autocrats. Man of some importance - she could roll with that. She smirked, albeit disguising her sardonic amusement beneath a heavily-layered guise of reverence; kept her eyes lambent with this makeshift awe.

She didn't care much for politics - not really - but she was all for getting her hands in a snooty politician's pocket.

There'd been a slight, pointed disappointment in admitting she lacked paper, but her expression picked back up at his improvisation; there was the thrilled thrum of a purr in the back of her throat as she was handed the makeshift paper. "Thank you!" She ghosted her fingers tentatively over the elaborate scrawl of his signature, before beaming eagerly up at him. "Street kids like me - we don't really get noticed this way. This-.. This means everything to me."

Ha. As if.
The elaborate scrawl of his signature would be somewhat difficult to replicate, what with flourishes here there and every-damn-where, but she had nothing but time.

He was rotten like every other one of those snakes, she was sure. She certainly wasn't about to feel bad about snatching anything from him, let alone a ring he probably owned five of, if only by merit of that self-made blue-blood.

To her credit, she did stay put and reciprocate the handshake for at least a moment, pausing as though to contemplate his question; her fingers, though, adjusted, subtly snagging on his ring in the disguise of their handshake, testing it's tightness. Loose enough - in a split-second, she tore herself from his hand, the ring cleanly sliding off with her, and bolted, pocketing the ring in question quickly.

She wasted no time, not with the possibility of him being a wizard - she doubted he'd use his magic here, with the looming threat of muggle speculation, but she could never be too sure. Lithe and quick on her feet, she was quick to duck out of the main alley into a smaller side-pavement. The climb onto a dumpster gave her the height she needed to make the leap up to one of the fire escapes, fingers snagging in it's engravements, using their leverage to hoist herself up over the railing, turning over her shoulder to check whether or not he was in pursuit.

nyoom

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edward nygma
 Posted: 13 Mar 2018, 05:42 PM
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A street kid, huh? She looked pretty well dressed for a street kid. Ed was oblivious to how stereotypical and potentially damaging that particular line of internal monologue was for the plight of people like her, but then quite frankly he didn’t care either. The only reason he’d let his attention sweep over her in the first place had been to try and pre-emptively work out the answer to his own question. She obviously wasn’t wearing a uniform that could tie her to one of the schools, but she also wasn’t dressed in anything formal suggesting an internship with the Ministry or similar either. So he was none the wiser as to why this particular child had stepped out of the crowd to approach him. But it was a positive thing, right? The youth showing an interest in politics? Ed himself certainly hadn’t cared very much at her age. He’d have to remember to bring that side of things up to Oswald as well while he was bragging abo-… informing him of what had happened.

And anyway, if she was a street kid, this definitely counted as his good deed of the day. Maybe he could tell Burke about it, get the press secretary to big up the fact the Chief of Staff was helping out these poor misfortunate children… maybe edit the details a little so it came across as more than just handing out autographs, but still, there was definitely something in this story to latch on to. “Well I am happy to oblige,” he chattered back cheerfully, tucking the pen away again in the inner pocket of his jacket and straightening the front of it again, before readjusting the carrier bag he’d shifted onto his wrist in his haste to fulfil her request. So much for ‘once a criminal, always a criminal’, he was proving them all wrong today. He was not only a model citizen bringing joy to the lives of his lessers, he was also a celebrity of sorts thanks to his prestigious role. The strength of his handshake matched the confidence he was feeling at the flood of good news this girl had brought with her. And he was still smiling to himself as he waited for her to answer his question.

But she never did. In fact, a moment later she was off like a rocket, disappearing through the crowd again and leaving Ed to frown a little in disappointment. He hadn’t said anything odd, had he? Not enough to get that reaction anyway, surely? So what had that been about then? Did she just… really not want to talk to him? That wasn’t horrendously unusual either but… well he was just the slightest bit sad to find that interaction over when it had barely begun, and it took him a moment to remember what he’d even been doing before her interruption. Home, right, he was finished for the day, he’d been heading back to the mansion to take apart the stereo in his bag. So he took a step off in the right direction again, giving a brief sigh as his thumb bent inwards again to flick at the… at the…

"Oh no."

He stared at his naked finger wide-eyed for several seconds before he could calm the panic enough to figure out what had happened. That little bastard, how dare she steal from him! His hand twitched towards the wand hidden away in an internal pocket but no, he couldn’t just summon it back to him here, not with so many muggles around, and not without a clear idea of where she’d run off to. So it would have to be a physical pursuit then… Great, his speciality

The carrier bag crashed to the ground as Ed dropped it in favour of running unburdened – he’d just have to get another stereo, this was more important. People were slightly more willing to move out of the way for a six foot man running at full pelt down the pavement so he made significant progress even after his delay, her head bobbing in and out of sight as he chased her down. “Stop! Get back here!” He doubted calling was going to do any good, but some thieves apparently got spooked and dumped their stolen goods if they knew they were being pursued. It was all he could hope for because there was no way he was going to catch up to her on foot.

Especially not when she decided to go up. Despite his additional height, Ed had no chance at scaling the fire escape she was quickly pulling herself onto, though he did make a vague jump in its direction, and ended up missing by miles of course. He had to stop against the wall after that anyway, throwing one arm out to support his weight as he tried to catch his breath. “Give it…” gasp “back…” gasp “It’s…” gasp “important!” Not that she cared about the history of the ring she’d stolen like any other pretty little trinket. Her magpie eyes had been attracted to the shine, not the sentimental value. He needed something bigger to motivate her, to negotiate with. One hand flew into his jacket again, brushing the wand still waiting there as he pulled out his wallet, waving it over his head towards her like he was trying to tease an animal closer with a treat. “I can… match its value… I can beat its value… just give it back!”

selina kyle / 914
poor Eddie =P
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selina kyle
 Posted: 14 Mar 2018, 08:54 PM
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N/A


Politicians - they were thieves of the worst persuasion, singular, cracking demands twisted in halitosis mouths and wyrm-breath, unforgiving, pathless. They were all cold, eldritch syllables, witch-words, manifestos of trickery; a funeral pyre encased in a single sound.

This city had been an ocean of sounds as long as she could remember - this black, roiling graveyard with heavy, illustrious machines of lungs, all message, martyr, and faint, hypocritical twinge, a lopsided spectacle rotting along it's teeth. There was always deceit, here - it lay there, dormant, deadly; a steady outdripping of poison, thick as sap, to be tapped.

And tap it politicians had - they'd overrun the world's careful pruning, grew with violent outshootings, turned every bit of this city into it's grisly garden. London was a heartless bitch, these days - liked to pin Hope up against the wall and have it's wicked way with her.

This one, this politician, was unlikely to be any different, setting up encounters like dominoes, an oxidiser to the ill-fated reactants. It was people like him that had lead her here. It was people like him that had dragged her from the orphanage in the first place, because there had to be someone to blame - someone important. Someone public. He was the homesickness that swelled in her head; the crests and valleys and the sound of her mother's voice, which she herself spoke well,

which she spoke haltingly,

which she spoke not at all, now.

He was every mile between her and the orphanage - every place that she must swallow and accept as obstruction on her tongue. He had all the things she could never hope for, and, in truth, she couldn't help but loathe him, too.

Which, undoubtedly, made it all the more satisfying as she wrenched out of his handshake with the ring in tow. His hesitation gave her valuable time, precious seconds with which to gain an advantage, put as much distance between her and the mark as possible. Still, his yell did startle her to some extent, a frenetic glance thrown over one shoulder as she ran.

But, oh, wouldn't that be a story? Politician chases down poor helpless girl in a vicious assault. She could earn a pretty penny for that one. She didn't have the time to think on it, now, though - the long-limbed green fucker had advanced quicker than she'd suspected he was capable of, a testament to his stature and long stride. She had to move, and move fast.

The leap up to the fire escape had been calculated and, had she not made the jump, perhaps he could have caught up with her. He fell short, but his attempt was enough to motivate her to retreat higher still, discerning even in the frantic ferity of the moment - important. What could be so important about a goddamn spinning ring? She doubted it was a sentimental thing, what with him being apparently involved in politics. Materialism?

( "I can... match its value... I can beat its value... just give it back!" )

Her hesitance was born of inquisition - curiosity killed the cat, as they say - and her eyes snagged upon his bribe, the unorthodox motion of his wallet brandished like it was some kind of weapon. Still, she disguised her intrigue beneath a apathetic sort of detached calculation, gaze following the wallet as though it was a laser pointer. With a great deal of reluctance, she vaulted over the fire escape's railing to the flat of one level, cocking her head down at him from the safety of the fire escape's height. "..How much?"

It had been a cautious inquiry, no doubt. She certainly wasn't unaware that he could well have placed some sort of hex on the damn thing. Her suspicion was undeniable - even if he turned out not to be a wizard, as a politician, he was enough of a slimy shit-bag to pull something as far as she was concerned.

Still, there was the chance to get home-free with his wallet, his signature and the ring, and it was an opportunity too good to reject without giving it so much as a second glance.

"First you're gonna tell me what makes this ring so damn important." There was a faint sneer in her expression - the barest hint of teeth bared in a smirk. "What's it to you, anyway? What's a pretty little trinket to some snooty big-shot politician, huh?" Tension coiled between thin shoulders despite her mocking interrogation, in case he pulled anything witch-y; she'd been prepped to move for years, now. She'd had to be, thanks to people like him.

i agree. poor riddleboy. xD

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edward nygma
 Posted: 15 Mar 2018, 07:37 PM
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Gasp… gasp… gasp… He was really not built for running. Even that brief sprint down a single street had been enough to wear him out, and he found himself gripping at a sudden stitch in his side as he tried to stand up straight again. If it wasn’t for the enchantment on his suit he was certain there would be patches of sweat appearing already, but thank God for magic keeping his image perfect. Or… well, mostly perfect… His face was still sweating after all, fringe sticking to his forehead in clumps that he made a vague swipe at to try and fix but to little avail. Meanwhile the girl had launched herself onto the fire escape with such agility and didn’t even seem to be out of breath. Youth, it was unfair, she was making him feel old and boring – not that he could actually have done anything close to what she could at that age either. In fact, he was probably even more likely to break into a coughing fit in response if he’d attempted that during his school years. Oh well, brains over brawn; he didn’t need to be fit to still be the smartest man in the room.

She’d moved higher up the metal bars, almost irritatingly out of reach in a move that felt every bit as petty as holding a piece of paper over a short person’s head and making them jump for it. Well he wasn’t going to jump, he was going to use his words and his mind to bring her back to his level. He didn’t need to do this on her playing field, exercising muscles she would clearly out pace at every instance, when there was one muscle of his she would have no chance of beating. That being said of course, he wasn’t going to get his ring back if all he did was spout out random riddles at her. So it was more about playing her at her own game, which really shouldn’t be too hard. Like the wallet for instance – it had caught her eye just like it was supposed to, as he made the bold claim that he could match the value of the item she’d stolen with its contents. A bluff of course, there was maybe a ten pound note or two in there, and his muggle bank account wasn’t exactly loaded. His wizarding account wasn’t really much better either, but that was a different problem... Basically even if he pooled all of his funds he would struggle to come close to matching the price of the piece of jewellery she’d snagged. Most of his monetary worth was tied up in gifts from Oswald, physical items of value rather than money he could actually spend, but of course, none of them meant as much to him as that ring did.

But she’d stopped. He’d got her attention, that was what he’d needed, and once he was sure she was looking he retracted the wallet a little (because if she simply grabbed that too he had very little else left to barter with). “Let me see the ring first; I’m not offering anything until I can see you haven’t dropped it somewhere.” Possibly slightly unnecessary – she was clearly hoping to sell it so she’d be keeping it safe somewhere – but if she brought it out into the open, there was always the possibility that he could simply snatch it back. Not by hand of course, he didn’t think he was fast enough for that, but a quick Accio could get it back off her without her being able to do much to counter it. He probably couldn’t risk getting his wand out though, not with so many muggles only steps away from where they were. He wouldn’t particularly mind obliviating the girl if he had to, but he’d been in enough scrapes recently that if his cover-up extended to more than one person he would certainly be in trouble again.

He scowled when she starting questioning him though, as if she had the right to determine the terms here… Technically she did have the advantage – she had something he wanted – and she was literally on the high ground, but still, he wouldn’t be spoken to like that! “I’m sorry, I don’t answer questions posed by vermin,” he reeled off sarcastically, though that was hardly going to help his already precarious position here. If she ran off again because he’d been too snarky, he was going to hate himself for weeks… So perhaps he needed to rephrase that slightly. “I said it’s important, that’s all you need to know. And not because it’s expensive either so don’t get excited. You’d have trouble selling it anyway: its unique enough someone might recognise it as mine. You’d be much better off with the cash I can offer in exchange for it back.” Still a bit of a bluff – in the magical world possibly a handful of people may recognise the ring as Ed’s, but in the muggle world that was much less of a risk. It was still a transaction she’d have to go through with a lot of questions about where she’d got it from though; cash would definitely be easier…

selina kyle / 873
he's lost my sympathy again now though
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selina kyle
 Posted: 17 Mar 2018, 10:42 PM
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N/A


In some cultures, they'd said that the sky was a thronedom, an altar for the gods; weather, an instrument of rageful indifference, a beautiful devotion worthy of arthritis and a place in school books.

The institutionalism of London was endless - a backlit canopy or stage of infinities; these people, these politicians, spoke in low murmurs or cocksure remarks with no middle ground, rained judgement down upon everything London was, everything it was not, until the entirety of the city was doused in their cynical sky. She nary feared it - it'd caught her eye a few times, but she only ever looked up to see what the hype was all about.

Street rats like her were the bread for the upper class' melancholy circuses, apathetic indifference, and on the odd occasion she wondered whether or not they were lonely, pretending to be so big and high and mighty all the time - she bet he knew the feeling, if he felt at all.

When she was little, she'd been told that the sky was like an onion, just layers of celestial sphere that could be sliced off with a thumbnail; two hundred and seventeen point five miles of teary eyes and thick skin and still, the wizard world knew naught of what it was that compelled gravity to roll earthly sorrow down their faces. She hadn't cried, couldn't cry - not since they took her little thief and sliced him up for moondust, and maybe that was why it was so easy to stay expressionless, here, aside from that slight sneer of passive contempt.

They'd told her that when she was born, she was blue - cerulean as the sky, entering the world with the curled claws of fists and held breath. When she died, her skin would be blue - pale as the sky, still and cold and fading but never gone. A battle though this life may be, it would always be by her rules. People were temporary; she was a constant in this place of ever-changing metropolitanism, so, as she looked down at this no-name politician blinking back at her in deceitful hieroglyphs, the blank-slate of a double-dealing stranger's face, she half-wondered if he - or any politician or any upper-class figure or someone in the public eye or anyone - cared for kids like her. She half-wondered if he'd rehearsed that sickening exaggerated empathy she knew of politicians, half-wondered if the jovial vigour she'd been greeted with at first had been fake, half-wondered if he could fake feeling for the publicity of it, like the juvie administrator had. She half-wondered if he'd known about that place, that institution, that hell. She half-wondered if an orphan or a squib or anyone meant anything to him; half-wondered if he knew what they did to kids like her; half-wondered if he'd known and had done nothing.

She was here and he was there, with that money, with that magic, with that value to his name - him, with all of space above his head, and she, with nary even the earth beneath her feet.

His compromise was met with immediate distrust - with the assumption that he, likely some obnoxious puritan blue-blood (after all, didn't the wizarding world love those?), paired with the fact that, as far as she knew, he was a politician of some variety, it was more likely that it was a trick than an assurance. Even being in muggle territory, she couldn't count on him fearing their judgement - her fingers coiled in the fire escape's engravements, subtly adjusting her grip to watch him a little more intently. "I don't have to prove a damn thing." As if she'd dropped it - she may not have known the wizarding world or riches but she knew her body like the back of the juvie administrator's hand; could feel the ring's handcuff weight in her pocket despite how light an object it was. It was enough of an assurance that it was still there. "By all means, go check whether I dropped it, though. S'fine with me," she retorted, passively bitter, but was still held in place by the potential to reap the benefits of opportunity.

Politicians were rarely broke, were they? He certainly didn't look it - clearly upper-class, at very least, be that by his own ministrations or another's. Either way, he could be the difference between eating for a few weeks and eating for months.

Vermin, spat just the way she remembered. She bristled subtly beneath her leather exoskeleton, if only for split-second. "..Thought politicians were supposed to be smart." she hissed in snappy retort, pulling herself further up the fire escape in spiteful reprisal, as though repulsed by him. Her tone dipped into scornful sarcasm, impassively derisive. "This vermin? She still got your shit."

Though the wallet had been tempting, yes, she wasn't about to sit here and take shit from some virescent fuck-wit if his head was that far up his own ass - she drew further from him still, placing a good extra level of the fire escape between them as a precaution; no one was unbreakable. If she applied enough pressure, and if the ring meant that much to him, he'd eventually cave. So, she elected to examine him, entirely apathetic and incurious, disinterested in his offer. "Y'know what? I'll take my chances, vermin," she spat back at him, and began to climb once again - listened in preparation for his caving, reconsideration, an animal that could be appeased with the right amount of conditioning but never settling for less.


good job ed. now she's salty

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edward nygma
 Posted: 18 Mar 2018, 09:40 AM
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It would almost have been amusing to Edward, if he could have heard the sort of things the girl was thinking about him, lumping him in with every other politician instead of treating him as the unique individual that he was. Because in truth, Ed had never had an interest in politics, and would have never assumed his fate lay in a career as the Chief of Staff to the Minister. He’d truly enjoyed his job in forensics back when he’d been allowed to tinker around with dead bodies to find out their secrets, but he had been forced to leave that role in none too pleasant circumstances. He’d never liked his job as an assistant, mostly because of the way he was treated by his boss, bullied and mocked long before his little secrets finally spilled out. And now this job? It was better, sure: it allowed him to work with Oswald, it gave him almost tangible power over a wide range of people, and it kept him in the news on a regular basis. But did he enjoy it?

In truth, he had at the start. Learning the ropes, testing his authority and the limits of his reach at every possible opportunity; all that had been rather fun. He’d probably never quite reached the level of ‘politician’ this girl was imagining but he had settled in to the role well enough. And it had kept his attention for a while. It was just recently he’d begun to… lose interest in some of it, or perhaps, had his interest diverted elsewhere so it no longer seemed so important to him. That wasn’t going to rescue him from the stereotype she saw of course, especially because it was the privilege and power side of the job he was still clinging onto, and only the policy making and public front side he was letting slip. And regardless of his personal thoughts, he still lived in a mansion with the Minister of Magic himself – that was always going to keep him in the street rat’s bad books.

Besides, it’s not like he was about to stop and explain why he was better or worse than most other politicians, but Ed was still assuming she knew who he was, and that her diversion tactic hadn’t been a total bluff. So she must know all of that already anyway, and Ed was perfectly sure she knew exactly who she was messing with here, double homicide and all. Which was one of the reasons why it was incredibly tempting to jump straight to threats and intimidation tactics, to remind her of his infamous reputation and the reason why so many members of the public were distrustful of him. But that only tended to work when he had something to threaten with, and she was well out of reach, too far above him to be able to subtly cast a curse too, so all that would earn him would be a laugh for trying.

She was making it tempting anyway though. “…Fine,” he spat a moment later when his request to see the item she’d stolen failed and failed hard. He had no back-up argument to try and get her to reveal it either, so his only option was to drop that tactic for now despite how much it screamed ‘loser’ to do so. And the fact that she then went on to question his intelligence?! Ed’s hands balled into fists by his side, one automatically twitching towards his wand before he could remind himself not to, his lip curling into a snarl at her implication. “Listen here you little piece of gutter trash, I am far more intelligent tha- no, wait, stop!”

He could have kicked himself as she suddenly scarpered further out of reach, Ed taking another step towards the fire escape and attempting another jump towards it. He missed again of course; in fact without the adrenaline burst of earlier his attempt fell so far short it was hard to tell what he'd been trying to do, and he was soon scrambling backwards again so he could at least keep an eye on her if not chase her himself. His hand had dived into his jacket pocket as well, closing around the hilt of his wand before she paused, and his actions hesitated too.

If she made it to the top, he’d curse her. That was the deal he agreed with himself in his mind, because regardless of the consequences, he couldn’t let her get away with that ring. He’d most likely still be able to get a clear shot from here, and yes, the clean up with the muggles might be a bit of a headache but it was doable and it would save him losing his most prized possession. But she was off again in a flash, and Ed found himself letting go of the wand automatically to reach his arms up in a gesture of surrender towards her, because the panic had chosen that moment to take the reins over the logical plan he’d devised only a moment earlier.

“Wait, please, stop, just… It was a gift!” She wanted to know why he cared didn’t she? It may not be enough to get her to give it back, but if she actually was interested in his answer it might be enough to make her hesitate. So he might as well tell the truth just to earn himself a few seconds. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Some random little street girl learned he had a sentimental side? What damage could that even do? And if he had to go to extremes to get his precious ring back then it was worth it, he couldn’t lose it. “From my partner. For my birthday. It’s the only birthday present I’ve ever had, that’s why it means so much to me. He noticed I fidget when I’m working so he got me something to help me with that. It’s the first time anyone’s ever noticed anything like that too. See? It’s not valuable to you but it is to me. So please, just give it back, please.”

selina kyle / 1,027
I'm sorry they keep getting longer, he has a lot to say about weird tangents apparently x_x
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selina kyle
 Posted: 18 Mar 2018, 06:20 PM
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N/A


She, truly, had no way of knowing what he was - this conversation had only been a microcosm; a cheap, cinematic illusion of depth with both parties clawing for the advantage, binary, temporary, contained.

She'd learned to fill the blanks in knowledge with sparking altercations and worst-case assumptions of spite and resilience, no longer moving forward through life but up to places of burdened examination, trustworthy in the thought that skyscrapers could not gauge out the moon, as much as hunger could not decimate the body when nursed correctly.

Morality, though, was absurd and narrow, a starved, latent thing; trust was a commodity she couldn't afford - not in this place - because the only guardian she'd ever had was herself and, once, she'd loved a jittery, anxious spectre of a boy more than she'd ever admitted but it'd never done her any good, had it? Rule one - always look out for number one.

His fine, fuelled by a childish spitting of venom, was undeniably gratifying, the beginnings of a grin quirking the corner of her lips upwards, her irritation briefly assuaged by satisfaction. Needless to say, though, their precarious peace couldn't be maintained, his sensibilities falling out of orbit - gutter trash gave her even more of an incentive to retreat further up the fire escape, quite visibly revolted by his phrasing, not to mention the fact that another attempt was made to grab for the fire escape - all factors that drove her further from him; made her even less willing to accommodate his wants than before.

The hand that kept twitching towards his pocket was suspicious, though; she examined it with a raptorial vigour, attempting to catch a glimpse of whatever he'd been reaching for - a weapon, of some variety? A wand, potentially, but she still wasn't entirely certain as to whether or not he was a user of magic. Either way, it was something he planned to use; something she had to be expecting the use of; something she'd have to avoid when the time came, if his hand should dig the likely-dangerous-thing from his pocket.

As expected, he caved to the pressure she'd placed upon him - admitted the fact that the ring had, supposedly, been a gift. Politicians were slimy, shit-faced things, and it was just as likely that this was cover-up, but there was an underlying hint of desperation about his tone that proclaimed no deceit. Still, his it's the first time anyone's noticed anything like that was greeted with an apathetically sardonic, "that means absolutely nothing to me."

There was a long moment of staring him down, feline-eyed and ferally inquisitive, before her lips quirked and she hoisted herself up over the railing of one of the fire escape's levels again, though certainly made no effort to progress further up, sinking low into the cover of the shadows, there; she used them to mask the retrieval of the ring and it's more thorough examination. The ring was expensive, she could tell that much, contrary to what he'd told her - looked like silver. "..So your boyfriend's rich, huh?" she quipped, pocketing the ring once again and leaning nonchalantly over the fire escape's railing, bright-eyed, disingenuous, albeit still calculative. "What's with the whole no presents thing, anyway? Like.. A religious thing? No parents?.. Got daddy issues or somethin'?" All shots in the dark, no doubt, less manipulative and more curious, now. Information always came in handy, though, didn't it?

It was with a great reluctance that she considered his plea, cocking her head slowly to one side as she calculated how to go about negotiation. "..I gotta lay low for a while," she admitted eventually, not that she'd explain the circumstance - in reality, petty thievery didn't go down so well with one of the local clubs; she'd damn near had her neck snapped by one of their thugs. "M'sure you and your sugar daddy have a decent place, yeah?" There was a hesitant pause, before she stepped up to perch upon the fire escape's railing to get a better look at him, fingers loosely curled about the railing, languid and easy despite the precarious position, keeping her center of gravity low. "You take me there, you get your ring."

It was an easy compromise, but of course she wasn't letting him get away home-free, and felt compelled to add a roguish, "..and you give me a couple of hundred in cash, too," justifying it with a deceptively innocent half-grin and a, "ring looks pricey."
s'all good <3 also oooo, negotiation

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edward nygma
 Posted: 18 Mar 2018, 09:57 PM
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He hadn’t exactly expected his story to move her, so he rolled his eyes at her predictable comment, biting his tongue to stop himself from rising to it because every time he’d done that so far she’d retreated further out of his reach. So instead he settled on levelling a glare at her, waiting to see what she chose to do with the information he’d given her. He twitched every time she moved, ready to leap into action, though to do what he wasn’t exactly sure, but she did seem to have finally stopped climbing. So something he’d said had clicked – or maybe she’d just taken note of the way he had pleaded, and figured she could get something more out of someone so desperate.

He let out a haughty scoff at her latest query, seemingly seconds away from stamping his foot in indignation. “My boyfriend is the Minister of-” He was forced to cut himself off quickly before he could offer the final word of Oswald’s title, because this girl was most likely a muggle, and making a proclamation like that one in the middle of a conversation would only succeed in making him look crazy, which would probably propel her away faster than any insult could. “- a particularly important department in government that you would know nothing about.” It wasn’t a perfect save of course but it would have to do, though she didn’t seem keen to linger on the subject anyway.

He had no intention of telling her anything about ‘the whole no presents thing’, no matter how much she intended to try and press him on the matter, but he was betrayed by his own body as he suddenly twitched at the mention of ‘daddy issues’, choosing that exact moment to very unsubtly leap into a defence. “What, no, stop asking such ridiculous questions, what does it even matter to you anyway? You just said it means absolutely nothing to you so why are you even questioning me, just drop it.” Perhaps if his words hadn’t come out at approximately one hundred miles an hour it might have looked a little less obvious that he was trying to cover his own reaction. But no, even Ed didn’t think he’d gotten away with that one…

His arms had folded across his chest at the end of his clumsy coverup, and he was pouting just slightly to give off the impression of a teenager not getting their own way. But it at least meant he was quiet while she laid down her offer on the negotiation table they were apparently now standing either side of. His brows did knit together at the mention of his ‘sugar daddy’ because Ed… actually didn’t have a clue what that meant. By the context she was presumably talking about Oswald but… neither of those words made sense to describe him? Maybe it was a new youth thing, he’d have to ask someone about it later, but just play along for now and pretend he knew what she was talking about. After all, he only looked confused for a brief moment before his eyebrows rose again in surprise at her actual suggestion. “Take you to his house? To what, hide out there from presumably some thug? Direct that sort of attention to our home, and keep a thieving rat safe in the process?” He didn’t even notice the insult slip in that time, too busy trying to belittle and dismiss her offer, but even as he was doing so he found his attention jumping back towards her, and the ring she was presumably still hiding from him.

“Oh well now you’re just being ridiculous,” he retorted sharply when she demanded cash as well. “I obviously don’t have that on me right now so what are you expecting, you’ll just walk me to a cash point and I’ll pay up?” He probably shouldn’t have actually been giving her ideas there, but anyway, it didn’t matter, because he had a compromise for her. “Fine, I’ll take you to Oswald’s house, you will give me my ring back, and then you can ask him for a cash donation to the Bank of Lost Causes, how does that sound?” It’s not like she’d get the chance to of course: there were a hundred and one opportunities in the inbetweening time for Ed to get the upper hand and simply steal his ring back. But he needed to meet her half way for now to set his own ulterior plan into motion anyway.

selina kyle / 1,027
Ed could you not please
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selina kyle
 Posted: 19 Mar 2018, 08:39 PM
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N/A


There wasn't a gentle bone in her body that hadn't thunder-cracked beneath the weight of river-water and self-inflicted riptide, and, oh, she was bloody - she'd replaced her tongue with a switchblade and cut like Winter through the city, impatient, indifferent, a living heart between her teeth and a cardiothoracic drumbeat echoing through her veins - didn't hear her heart pumping, only doors closing.

Academia taught kids to make it so damn pretty-sounding, didn't it? When she looked at him, she didn't see constellations. She didn't see vulpine eyes or cardiac glycosides or the stitched faces of foreign planets - he was just another shit-faced con-artist; she was hard-pressed to see anything more than another hand waiting to drown her.

His hesitation lasted a split-second, but there'd been an intense inflexion in his tone that made her inquisitively suspicious; minister. In both the wizarding and muggle world, the role carried a certain public weight, albeit more mundane in the absence of magic - it was enough of a confirmation of her query. "Oh yeah?" she retorted testily, and fixed her eyes on him with a quiet underlying ferity, and intently implored, "try me." Rich, at very least - enough for this slimy son-of-a-bitch to be mooching off his partner. Pressure-release was near enough always effective on those with the lowerhand, so she grilled him further, intent on having her questions answered. "Might surprise you. N' if not, it's not like I can do anything with his title, y'know." Technically a half-truth.

His near-frantic verbal deflection was confirmation in itself, and she cocked her head sharply as he snapped out his tangent - she lifted her hands in mock surrender, fighting down the beginnings of a smirk. "'Kay, chill. Jeez.." To her credit, she did oblige and willingly drop the subject though that was, perhaps, only because he'd given her all the clarification she needed on the matter. Daddy issues - that, at least in part, justified the whole attention-seeking brat.. thing he had going on.

In truth, she didn't normally find herself in positions to be demanding safety from strangers, but adaptation was the key to survival - that, and it was starting to get colder; pneumonia hardly made for a good one-night stand. The insults hadn't let up, though she selectively ignored it, this time; instead, rolled one shoulder in some semblance of a shrug, eyes lambent with devilry. "Somethin' like that."

He eventually settled into her negotiation, albeit having verbally picked at her deal for a good moment; she audibly snorted in amusement at his final quip, though. "Riiight. So, I'll explain to your boyfriend how you fucked yourself over and owe some gutter trash a debt you can't afford without him." A brief pause; she shrugged, lips splitting into a feline-fanged smirk. "Sounds good."

Having watched him intently for a moment, she balanced easily atop the thin railing of the fire escape and, agile and languid, dropped from the height, knees bent to absorb the force of her fall; she'd been all lithe, bird-chime bones for years, now - landed near noiselessly a little ways away from him. Still, she maintained a decent distance between the pair of them for the time being; kept on her toes, expecting him to lash out in some form, cautious beneath a careless facade. With a moment of silence, she murmured a shamelessly casual, "sooo, you know how to apparate, or what?" She half-remembered the practise; kids at the orphanage practically idolised apparating - the juvie administrator had done it all the time. It was another shot in the dark, experimental - he seemed easy enough to read; she needed conclusive evidence as to whether or not he belonged to wizarding world. And, if it turned out her suspicions had been false, then, really, what could a muggle do about an insane-sounding street kid?
smh @ both of them

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edward nygma
 Posted: 19 Mar 2018, 09:59 PM
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It had been automatic to disguise Oswald’s title from this unknown girl, the impulse of a familiar instinct telling him to keep magic secret unless the company you were in was confirmed to be ‘one of you’ when probability dictated a random stranger probably wasn’t. So Ed hadn’t really spared a second thought to whether this girl was muggle or magic in the process. He’d gone for the safer option without thinking, but now that she was questioning him, and he’d allowed himself to dwell on the matter for longer than just a split-second, an inconsistency began to occur to him. “… If you know who I am, you should certainly know who he is.” After all, their relationship was as publicised as their politics, if not more so – scandal and gossip wiggled its way into more forms of media than boring old campaign speeches after all. Now perhaps his hesitancy to admit to being magical was a hint that his subconscious had worked out her whole introduction had been a ruse, but that didn’t mean the rest of him was going to give up that hope that he had a ‘fan’ without a little more evidence to prove it.

She had backed off the ‘why’s at least, and Ed luckily missed the hint of a smirk on her face because he would certainly have had a few more choice words to say if he’d seen she’d found amusement in his response. Instead, he was complacent taking her words at face value, assuming she had agreed to completely drop all musings on the subject, as supposed to thinking she had already got everything she needed to know from him. She was a tricky one to read, but that really wasn’t saying much coming from Ed, who really only had a chance at understanding the intricacies of close friends – and even then he often still got it wrong. So to say he couldn’t predict her inner thoughts or personal feelings right now didn’t particularly set her apart from anyone else, even if it did still make him uneasy when she shrugged and offered a very noncommittal response to his summary.

He glared at her snort, a childish response to being laughed at, but did take a moment to pause as she played his words back to him with her own spin. “Well it’ll be my word against yours,” he replied a moment later, “and my retelling of the story may be worded slightly differently. We can just see who he believes then, can’t we?” A beat or two and then, “Besides, none of that is true anyway; I am not responsible for any of this, and I could too pay. I am just choosing not to.” He had only moments ago admitted that he didn’t have any cash on him so he wasn’t coming from a particularly strong standpoint there, but he wouldn’t have been able to move them on without some attempt at defending himself anyway.

As she began to move from the railing, dropping from a height way above what most people would assume was safe, Ed found himself suddenly shifting in response. Of course, while most people might be tempted to move closer to try and catch the girl who could be about to injure herself, Ed found himself stepping away, not wanting to be too close in case he was accidentally landed on, and not sparing two thoughts for her safety. If she was taking that risk she had either calculated it and knew she would be fine, or else she was an idiot and deserved her fate. Either way, Ed had no reason to intervene.

She mentioned apparating, and Ed’s brows creased into a deep frown as he took a moment to consider exactly what that meant. It was confirmation right? That she was magic? Or that she at least knew the magical world, and so Ed performing any sort of spell in front of her would not land him in trouble because she had at least some knowledge already. But what if she only knew that word? What if she’d picked it up with no context and had only used it correctly by luck? Except… no, that was too much of a coincidence. And that, matched with her knowledge of who he was, was enough to make a reasonable judgement here, right? “Yes but you do realise you will have to be significantly closer than that for this to work,” he replied, offering an elbow out towards her and keeping a very close eye on her if she did choose to approach him.

Besides in hindsight, he wasn’t actually sure how one would walk back to the mansion from here…

selina kyle / 784
if she takes his arm you're welcome to have them apparate in your tag, or I can do it in mine, either way ^-^
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selina kyle
 Posted: 20 Mar 2018, 01:21 PM
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N/A


These people were all the same to her - all lurid, viridescent pride, cyan(ideas), hunters under the guise of city wishes stolen away; they trailed shadows armed with crescent moon knives, semilunar arrows paralyzing prey. They lived, parasitic, on charcoal-ended breaths of London, olive spines stiff as distilled strychnine.

Acute toxicity, if not lethal.

She couldn't unsee the stereotypes she'd been conditioned to see; couldn't unlearn the only thing she'd ever been taught. These people were vicious in memory - faked the cardenolides and flashed them; weren't vibrant venom but internalised malignancy, all mark and recapture, grimace or grin, but she was a survivor, if nothing else - knew how to step past fear like a predator in the tall grass.

Sugar-coating rotted the teeth, but the truth was no harder to keep. She sheltered the cavities with little while lies - intended to keep his suspicion subdued for, at very least, a little longer. With the way he'd worded the semi-allegation, his relationship was likely a public one; the publicised relationship of a minister sounded like something the press would jump at a chance to ravage. There was a moment of slightly exaggerated contemplation, before she shook her head and shrugged almost apologetically. "..Nah. Beats me - never read up on that stuff." She deemed it a suitable enough alibi - enough to perpetuate his assumption that she knew anything about him, at very least. "Fill me in?"

His word against hers could be an issue, admittedly; there was a vague hesitance, but she scoffed lightly, smirk tugging into a grin, and shot back a sharp, albeit vaguely playful, "you're a slimy son-of-a-bitch, y'know that?" Still, she could roll with that - whatever his retelling ended up as, she was confident in her ability to adapt, get the upperhand on whoever this Oswald character was. Sounded vaguely familiar, but hell if she could put a face to the name. "But, sure - guess we'll see."

His extended hesitation, though, had her reevaluating the reliability of the tactic she'd employed, questioning her judgement - had she been wrong? Perhaps he wasn't a wizard at all, just an out-of-place queer with venom, but, no - he understood what she'd meant, evidently. "I'll kick your teeth down your throat if you bother try'na get it back on the way, too." Her head tipped at a slight angle, flashing a deceptively innocence and self-assured grin, one hand curled tightly about the ring in her pocket, precautionary. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Reducing the distance between them was greeted with a great deal of hesitance, regardless of his apparent acceptance of the situation; although she slunk closer semi-willingly and extended a hand, there was a heady pause in which her fingers curled cautiously back to her palm, hovering above his elbow. With the pause, she looked intently up at him, clinical in her examination of his eyes. It seemed she found whatever she was looking for, though, and, with some of the caution she'd exhibited abated, settled her hand upon his elbow, fingers coiling in the fabric of his sleeve, steeling herself.

And, although the juvie administrator had, time and time again, branded her wrist with bruised fingerprints, had apparated behind closed doors, had left her bloody with the ghosts of scars, the process never failed to be nauseating; between the physical contact, the threat of being this close to him, and the transition between one place and the next, she had to fight down bie in the back of her throat, empty stomach roiling uneasily.

At the soonest viable opportunity, she tore herself away from him, maintaining the contact no longer than necessary - there was a hissed hitch of breath strangled beneath the weight of distrust before, silent for a moment, she took in their new surroundings, lavish, singing richly of life and grandiose and domestic luxury. There was another pause, before she half turned over her shoulder to look back at him, bright-eyed and roguish. "You weren't lyin' when you said your boyfriend was rich, huh?" Well, technically, no, he hadn't said that, but it had been implied.
i tried?? lmao, hope this works

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edward nygma
 Posted: 25 Mar 2018, 07:16 PM
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Rather than taking her ignorance as a sign of some sort of trick being afoot here right now, Edward took it as a sign of her stupidity, and barked a laugh as she requested the details she was missing. Having already determined she was magic by her knowledge of apparition, he didn’t hesitate this time when he reeled off, “Oswald Cobblepot? The Minister of Magic? What are they teaching you in schools these days? Honestly, pick up a newspaper for once in your life, I’m sure they must get thrown in the trash cans you eat from all the time.” He was really not doing well at cutting down the insults here, but he still found himself so much on edge that any attempt to chip away at his enemy was being snatched up in an instant. He didn’t think they were doing much good, and logically he knew insults wouldn’t get him any closer to the return of his ring, but he couldn’t help but try something, even if it was just following a useless impulse.

An eyebrow cocked at her own attempt at name-calling, but he found himself smirking before he could take it too seriously. “Yes, I have been informed,” he replied, the slightest nagging popping up in the back of his mind to question what exactly his mother had to do with any of this, and how he had come across as slimy – too much hair gel perhaps, he was styling it a different way now after all? But as he had said, this wasn’t the first time such words had been used against him, and so he chose to take them as generic and meaningless, like most insults ended up being when they came from lesser-minded individuals, and searching for actual sense behind them would simply be a wasted effort.

Both eyebrows shot up at her threat though, this expression not quite slipping away as quickly as the last, and despite her much smaller size and younger age, Ed found himself shuffling a little uncomfortably at the intimidation tactic. He was used to words of violence, from a whole range of opponents, and Ed had not once come off well from that sort of altercation. It certainly didn’t help that experience had taught him to go still and to apologise and to beg forgiveness, rather than to try and fight back in any way. So he simply tried to dismiss her words as ineffective instead, letting out a small scoff and replying, “How crass,” in a voice that sounded far too pompous and uncomfortable for him. Despite the fancy suits and illustrious title, Ed was not from a very well-off background, and though he put every effort into fixing his voice and his mannerisms to play the part of one of the upper class crowd, the whole effect didn’t always sit naturally with him. But perhaps this girl’s first impressions of him would be enough to cover how out of place that tone of voice sounded for him.

She certainly took her sweet time to approach him, so much so that Ed was sighing with impatience before she’d even got there. It was unfair of him to judge – he was just as cautious, if not more so, when it came to making contact with strangers he did not trust. But then a lot of what he did was unfair – the standards that applied to Edward Nygma did not apply to everyone else of course. Once she had finally attached herself to his arm though, a light pop and intense whooshing feeling had them soon travelling to land only a moment later several miles away at Oswald’s abode.

Despite being far more used to such a method of transport, it still took Ed a moment to regain balance on his feet, and to ensure he wasn’t about to throw up from the sensation. But once that was assured, he untangled himself from her grab about as quickly as she did the same, keen to only have that touch for the minimum amount of time necessary because the feeling she had left behind where his shirt now pressed too closely to his skin had him immediately shaking his arm a little to try and clear it. But it meant they were home at least, or he was anyway, and she was currently residing in her most recently acquired bolthole. She seemed distracted by her admittedly elegant surroundings, and Ed was half tempted to try a summoning charm while her attention was diverted, but a flash of movement had caught his own eye.

Standing on the table where he had left it several days earlier after tinkering away at its memory functions, was one of the small robots Ed had been working on for months now. At the presence of its creator, it had switched itself on, as it was often prone to do (a small bug in the system which Ed was beginning to just embrace rather than attempting to fix), and had begun walking towards the edge of the table, straight towards the girl Ed had brought along with him. At only hand height, it hardly posed much of a threat, but Ed still found himself frowning at its intentions as their guest finally spoke up about the house. “I never said that, you said that, I- stop that.” The final command was not aimed at her, but at the bot, which was currently leaning off the table to try and reach the pocket of the girl in which the ring was still located. Its metal fingers occasionally managed to brush the fabric, but it was clearly in no danger of actually succeeding. Meanwhile, Ed was slightly more concerned about what a fall from that height could do to it – though with such a stupid tactic of trying to help him, any damage might actually be well deserved.

selina kyle / 982
return of the tiny Riddlerbots
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