I Fought the Law [Arnold, Oswald, FBI]

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

(OOC: This thread is mostly so that Pamela, Oswald, and Arnold can have a little cell to cell chat. Though I don't think we'd mind being harassed by F.B.I. types as long as we're allowed to harass each other too.)

Pamela was effectively off in her own little world as she was properly processed into the F.B.I.'s prison wing. Now she's out of her skimpy party dress and wearing a standard prisoner's jumpsuit (the bright orange clashes horribly with her hair!) and being led down the hallway with her wrists cuffed behind her back and a guard on either side. Apparently Agent Tiff thought that she was dangerous enough to put with the really bad prisoners, and all the bells and whistles that go along with that. Lucky her!

On the plus side that means she'll get her own cell. On the negative side, this place is co-ed and apparently the mostly male inmates seem to think that she's attractive. Now you might think that Pamela Isley would love the attention as she's led past, but she's hardly in the mood and she'd rather be ogled by people who are actually important than prison scum. Fortunately the place seems only slightly filled - the F.B.I. must be expecting many more high profile prisoners than the ones they already have.

When they reach her designated cell, she's unhandcuffed and locked in. The guard's hands are gentle - an influence of her pheromones that are strong enough to encourage people to be nice to her, but too weak to get them to forget what they're doing and listen to her instead. If and when she gets out of here, that's the first thing she'll need to do something about. After she can get to her babies.

She scans the sparse furnishings in her cell with disgust. How do people live like this? Is it even hygienic? Well, hygienic or not she's exhausted after escaping from Nightwing and then being interrogated so she lays herself down on the only minimally comfortable cot, attempting to ignore everything that has happened and is happening in favor of what could happen and how she might get herself into that future.

[Deleted]

In the cell directly across from Poison Ivy a middle aged man sat on a bench, keeping Its eyes on the new prisoner of the wing. It's cell was completely dark, except for the reflection of a pair of metal framed coke bottle glasses.

Drumming It's chubby fingers, the criminal known as the Ventriloquist studied the woman. It had been a few months since It had seen her. She did not seem to notice It when she entered her cell. Quiet as a mouse was the Ventriloquist.

When she laid down on her cot, that is when the sharp pitched rhyming began...

"Mary had a little lamb,
little lamb, little lamb,
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow. Heee.

And everywhere that Mary went,
Mary went, Mary went,
and everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go. Heee."

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

No sooner is she laying down than she starts to hear an irritating voice making completely unnecessary noise. She grimaces - figures that she'd get a cell across from a nutcase. She rolls over onto her stomach so that she can see out of her cell without lifting her head. The cell across from her is much darker than hers, probably due to the angle of the sunlight this time of day, so she can't see who is making that racket.

"Do you mind?" she asks, obviously irked. Not that it would take much to irk her at this point. She's had a bit of a day already and is not in a good mood. Especially since she immediately realizes that if the guy doesn't comply with her request she's helpless to do anything about it.

Helplessness... Oh, how she hates that feeling. It eats away at her mind unless she comforts herself with thoughts of being in control. But she really isn't right now. On the other hand, she has to point out to herself that she's never been in this situation before and therefore doesn't know which resources she has at her disposal. She needs to think so that she can plan. But how is she supposed to do that with that noise in the background?

[crazyhorse9]

Oswald hadn't been sleeping, as the guards had known for quite some time. Though he had grown bored with the "hostile treatment". It was never fun, but he had expected more out of the FBI, an option of politeness and negotion to make deals.He had expected Lisa Novak or the D.A. office to get involved or to even allow a lawyer to intervene. That was the old way, and seeing as how a new phase of enforcement was calming. It must have been time for Gotham to leave behind the old skin.

Arnold's frenzied rhime began ticking into Oswald's mind. Everyone knew all the words, but they were different when Arnold spoke them. The fact that a man in his middle ages, singing or creating nursey rhimes when separated from a Vito-Corleone- Scarface- meets Jack Nicholson mash up, was worthy of a eyebrow raising. Though when a woman's voice backlashed against the rhime, he raised slowly from the wall. Pacing to the bars, even though enclosed in darkness with no light.

Clearing his mucus-dry throat, a scratchy almost creepily curious voice projected, " You must be new here because Arnold can't stop singing, it's the only thing keeping an insane person sane, if that makes anysense." Now back to an interesting topic, " What is your name?"

[Deleted]

The Ventriloquist cracked a sadistic smile at the annoyance of Poison Ivy. It knew her. It knew her from before. It got up and walked so It could grab onto the cell bars. It pressed It's forehead against the cold metal steel prison, showing how pale and decayed It had become from two and a half weeks of neglect and isolation.

"It followed her to school one day
school one day, school one day,
It followed her to school one day, which was against the rules.
It made the children laugh and play,
laugh and play, laugh and play,
it made the children laugh and play to see a lamb at school. Hee"

Over at the adjacent cell, the Penguin began to rustle. It ceased It's chiming in deference to the crime boss of bosses, remaining silent as Oswald asked the question.

Before Ivy could answer, the Ventriloquist beat her to the punch.

"Pamela Isley is her name. Being full of poison and venom is her game. Hee."

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Even with another voice supplying the name 'Arnold' to the annoying singer, Pamela can't identify anyone based on that alone. She does, after all, know more than one person by that name, has no reason to assume any of them would be here, and it's been awhile since she's last seen the Ventriloquist. So when he steps into the more visible part of his cell near the bars, her eyes go wide in momentary surprise to so randomly run into this particular man again.

Though the surprise is short lived and quickly turns into amusement. She laughs lowly, mockingly before she comments, "Well, someone's certainly let himself go since the last time I saw him." She, on the other hand, looks as gorgeous as ever. Well, except for the problem of the color of her jumpsuit, but that's not her fault and she still manages to make the sorry excuse for an outfit look good. "You still owe me a favor," she comments idly, the amusement not leaving her voice.

But aside from her own insistence that he does need to repay her eventually for her very kind act of sparing his life awhile back, she doesn't have much to say to the man. So her attention quickly shifts over to the cell next to his where the other man spoke from. Thanks to the dreary darkness of the room she doesn't recognize him instantly as she would have in better circumstances, but anyone who's anyone knows what the proprietor of the Iceberg Lounge looks like. And Pamela definitely is an 'anyone'. "Mr. Cobblepot," she states as she rolls off the cot and stands so that she can greet him as properly as one can in this situation by being on her feet and by the bars where they can more easily see each other. "I haven't had the pleasure," she adds formally. Does she actually respect him that much? No, but she does know that it's in her best interest to pretend she does. And she's very, very good at pretending things she doesn't actually feel. "Pity for it to be in such circumstances," she adds with a smile.

[Deleted]

When Pamela Isley reminded It of the fact of her owing him a favor, it triggered a humiliating memory within It's psyche. The Ventriloquist lowered It's head, mumbling to Itself.

"I hate. I hate. I hate...."

It then raised Its head and screamed,

"We hate You! We hate this place! We hate myself!"

Despite the abrasiveness of the moment, whomever was in the vicinity was able to determine that the Ventriloquist was not yelling at Isley, rather it was just yelling out loud because of the fragile psyche it possessed. The phrases were not directed at Poison Ivy, rather about her.

It then looked up at the ceiling and then began to take a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with Isley and Cobblepot. Lowering It's head it began to say in a soft whisper.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word
Mama's gonna buy you a mockin'bird

If that mockin'bird don't sing
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring...."

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Almost against her will, Pamela's eyes shift back over to the Ventriloquist when he screams. Though the sound of his yelling is unpleasant, his words actually cause another cruel laugh. "Oh, you wound me," she says, bringing a hand to her chest over-dramatically to mime being shot to the heart, though of course her expression is nothing but amusement.

And it is amusing indeed to see her former 'ally' in such a condition. The man did threaten or even actually attempt to harm her on more than one occasion. She wouldn't necessarily like to see him get himself killed or anything like that - it would deprive her of collecting a favor from him, after all - but she's certainly not opposed to seeing him suffer. "I'm sure this place hates you too. Though that last one... they have pills for that, you know," she remarks dryly, quite happy to add to that suffering if she can. Is it because she's currently rather unhappy herself and misery loves company? Perhaps a bit.

[Deleted]

Embarrassed. A feeling Arnold Weaker knew all too well. Prone to those psychiatric outbreaks, It did not like to blurt out strange comments even in front of those deemed criminally insane. Or were they? Weaker knew what It was doing here. A father who had deemed It a failure since the moment of inception. Having this proven when It tried to enter into the ranks of a criminal empire, only to never move about the goomba. Arnold Weaker had been put down and corrupted by others all of Its life.

Looking across the cell at Poison Ivy, It wondered what she was doing here.

“Wh---wh—what exactly are you doing here Pamela? Wh----wh—why are you with Us? Y—you look normal,” Arnold made reference to Its gaudy appearance as well as the Penguin and his physical deformities. “Y—you’re a beautiful woman with money, an education, knowledge, and grace. Why?”


Weaker felt like It was asking a legitimate question to her. Not one out of curiosity, but one out of desperation, almost asking her why she would chose a life of crime when it was not too late for her to live an ordinary life. After all, Wesker’s life had not been an easy one by no means. It actually considered Itself sad, depressed, and angry most of the time. The only moment of peace It was able to receive was when Scarface was in control, but the Mafioso had not been a strong presence in Its psyche for over two weeks.

[crazyhorse9]

She was beautiful he had no doubt, which made her reply all the more soothing or atleast welcoming; Oswald smiled back. Arnold continued being the crazy person he was, though he did ask her the question that Oswald was hinting at. She seemed nice and all, but looks don't count for everything as they say. Finding out what she was imprisoned for was one step closer to finding out her true personality and needs. Pamela. Interesting name, popular but rare, like a carrier pigeon before they died out. But her last name Isly. Hmm he remembered something about them. Oh yes! Her parents were very wealthy and well educated, loyal to very few. Sadly they were killed. Information was a drug to Oswald, he had to have it on anyone on virtually anything. Without even knowing her, her last name had unlocked needed information to gain her perspective. He waited for her answer to the question.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Actually, given that the F.B.I. are not treating the insane much differently than the sane, this part of the prison is reserved for those considered to be the most dangerous whether they're crazy or not. Which partly explains why Pamela is here - she's not crazy. Or at least, she assumes that she's not crazy and has never been properly evaluated. Not that she'd believe an evaluation that found her to be insane...

The question that the Ventriloquist stutters out this time actually causes her eyebrows to raise in surprise. Given that she doesn't actually know or care to understand what exactly led her to this point, her answer to the question isn't as 'deep' as the man seems to be trying to go with it. "Appearances can be deceiving," she replies first. She may look normal, but even though she won't admit that she may have a mental health problem, even she can't claim to be normal since Dr. Woodrue attacked her if only because of the toxin that naturally occurs in her blood.

"I believe that if they actually charged me with a crime it would be involuntary manslaughter. Oh, and unlawful possession of some sort. But they're liable to find even more," she continues, shrugging when she's finished. Sufficeth to say, she's a criminal now. One guilty of so many things just now coming to light that it would be laughable for her to get out of here or any other prison legitimately. Which means that she's going to have to rethink her life completely. A part of her is angry about that, but another part of her suspected something like this might happen eventually.

[Deleted]

The Ventriloquist swallowed. Involuntary manslaughter? If she was capable of that act, which It did not doubt, the Ventriloquist thought Itself fortunate, thinking back to a few months ago. Remembering what she did to It, brought up feelings of anger and terror. At the moment it was more anger.

"You fail--fail--failed to an-answer the question Isley," the Ventriloquist responded with narrowed eyes. "Ne-ne--never mind. Yo--you won't answer it. I--I--I'm just glad you are finally behind b--bars. B--ut don't consider yourself one of us yet. You're not one of us. You'll never b--be one of us!"

The Ventriloquist made reference to the fraternity known as the Gotham Rogues. Along with being a rogue came the power and influence. Respect and infamy.

It was feeling more anger because at the moment there was nothing to be terrified about. Oh the potential was there, but there she was dressed in an orange jumpsuit with no plants in the vicinity. She wouldn't answer the question. She didn't seem like the type of person who would disclose motivations unless it was the right moment. And this was not it for she shared a room with a creature who wanted nothing more then to choke her to death.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Catching the hint of nerves on the Ventriloquist's face at her reply, Pamela smirks at him. Involuntary manslaughter indicates that she unintentionally killed someone, but it was in such a way that it's still basically her fault. And given that she doesn't appear to be at all upset by this, one wonders what would happen if she were to, say, want to kill someone. Especially given the fact that, though the F.B.I. doesn't know it, she has no less than two weapons that can't be taken away from her. Considering how annoying he's being and her present mood, the Ventriloquist should feel lucky that he's safely locked away in a cell that's out of range of both.

The Ventriloquist's objection to her answer gets a raised eyebrow. "How did I not answer your question? You asked me why I'm here, I told you," she replies, stepping back away from the bars so that she can sit on the edge of her cot. If she's going to be kept from napping by a conversation, she might as well rest at least. She's feeling so tired, like an evening after a day spent shopping, in spite of the fact that though her day has been eventful there hasn't been very much that's physical about it. "And what do you mean 'one of us'?" she asks boredly, "Because if you're talking about being a criminal or a freak - too late."

[crazyhorse9]

Oswald couldn't help letting out a dark penguin-like laugh that echoed like an eagle's majestic call. He turned around from his cell and continued laughing. This cat had claws, he admired that. But claws weren't strong as talons or beaks, that was were he outmatched them. Though as he stopped and his breif enjoyment faded, he pondered her response. She already viewed herself as a freak and a criminal, though that seemed like a defense mechanism. " Criminal and freak are too separate yet important classifications. I know that woman are the stealthy killers, but woman who are stealthy and freaks, well that's a new one. Whoever you killed obviously wanted you, you have all the mating qualities. Red hair, slim body, stubborn and refreshing demeanor, and a mind smarter than the average gothamite."

Oswald was alluding to something, something that maybe she didn't know. He stepped closer to the bars now. "Though what sets you into a different class, is that your blood is rare and dangerous." His lips began to purse. " Did you get that attribute from your mother or your father?"

[Deleted]

Wesker leaned back and began to try and shake the steel bars to the jail cell, pumping It’s arms in a strange motion. The woman was showing It no respect once again, walking away from the conversation, responding with no conviction or source of anger.

The Ventriloquist did not let out a scream of frustration, nor a high pitched yell. It simply continued the same action at a medium speed pace. Eyes darted to and fro behind wire framed spectacles. Spotting a bowl of oatmeal that had been left earlier in the day, Wesker leapt toward the food, sat down Indian style on the cold floor and began to eat.

It was difficult to tell whether the Ventriloquist would be listening to the conversation between Isley and the Penguin, but It always listened. It always paid attention to the surroundings.