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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Dec 8, 2011 21:16:48 GMT -5
Ignoring the Ventriloquist now that he's being blessedly silent, Pamela instead finds her thoughts being interrupted by Mr. Cobblepot. Fortunately he's far less irritating, though perhaps only because she hasn't had the sort of past history she has with the Ventriloquist. Not that she thinks anywhere near as much of him as she pretends to, but he's still greatly preferred.
And his words cause a small half-smile to reach her face. She is, indeed, very beautiful and doesn't ever tire of hearing about it, even if it's phrased so analytically. She won't comment on how the people died, nor on the fact that they're hardly the first who have tasted death because of her. They were merely the first that died in a way that she couldn't cover up.
His final statement and question, cause her eyes to suddenly fixate on him and an eyebrow lifts. "Not surprising that you'd keep up with the gossip," she comments, thinking momentarily about the incident that made that little fact of her blood pretty much public knowledge. She'll definitely thank Harvey for that one later... "Neither, I wasn't born with it," she replies, "It was inflicted upon me." No need to go into any detail upon that incident while she's perfectly free to say whatever she wants.
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Post by crazyhorse9 on Dec 15, 2011 15:48:11 GMT -5
"Prime example of a woman scorned." It was more than small talk, yet at the same time it was just something to do. He had a plan for what he would do once he escaped, though making new friends who have the means and brains to accomplish things when needed was quite wanted to someone like him. As he disappeared back into the shadows, he thought about Sherry. Hopefully she is well and ready for anything. The Feds had made a mistake coming to HIS city. He wasn't the only person who had the same view. The paper had recounted economic downfall, Hundreds lost their jobs, and taxes and restrictions became tighter. He predicted that stock would drop at least 14 % by Christmas if not sooner. The city was being squeezed, times had to change for the better of Gotham. "Thats something that you and I have in common then, The world hating us for our dreams and implications. People like Tiffany, who care about being loyal to God, yet will destroy everything for that belief. We have entered the next stage, where all people are being inflicted on the FBI's wrath."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2011 1:07:58 GMT -5
Victims they say. It is most likely true. In psychology there is the classic debate of nature vs nurture when it comes to mental illnesses. Nurture of course dictates that sociological factors determine one's state of narcissism, manic depression, schizophrenia, etc. Nature states either a chemical imbalance in the brain or hereditary genealogy is the formulaic equation that makes a psychiatric disability.
Wesker listened to the Penguin's reply to Ivy. The Ventriloquist agreed that there must have been some sort of affliction which befell the both of them. But deep down inside, It smiled to Itself, knowing that there had to be a REASON for the infliction to occur.
It studied the pair. Trying to determine if they would better be suited as enemies or allies?
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Dec 18, 2011 1:54:46 GMT -5
Pamela's eyes narrow slightly at Cobblepot's first statement, though she doesn't comment. That almost makes her sound like some moody woman that the gentlemen all dismiss. But if they do, then they do so at their peril. Her attempt to keep her activities hidden has failed, and her reputation as a socialite is likely forever tainted. No, she will not be like Cobblepot and clean up her reputation again. A polite reputation is so difficult to hang onto - probably more trouble than it's worth. Perhaps she needs a new kind of reputation, one that isn't so fleeting.
His last few statements cause her to scoff, "I don't care what the F.B.I. is doing to anyone else. What does that matter to me? I only know that they will pay for this inconvenience when I get out of here." What's perhaps most remarkable about those statements is the sheer amount of confidence and sincerity behind them. While she can't see her way out of this prison now, she's completely confident in her ability to get out of it sooner or later - though she herself wouldn't believe it if you told her it was going to be as soon as the middle of tonight. She just knows that she will get out, and when she does the F.B.I. will pay dearly for this. For completely personal reasons - she couldn't care less what they're doing to anyone else.
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Post by crazyhorse9 on Dec 23, 2011 16:56:43 GMT -5
"Ah the lone wolf approach, I myself happen to agree that the FBI is a nuisance, but it is naive to say that their actions aren't affecting anyone. A classy and well educated woman such as yourself need to focus on getting revenge. For the actual execution of that revenge will only hinder your future. Better leave that up to someone like myself, in which Retribution is just one of the many treasures that lie in my pockets." Sitting back down on the uncomfortable bed only made him think further about his goals. Yes he had to plan escaping, and making a difference. He had to take a different approach to The FBI. A bird wouldn't be outsmarted by a gun wieling lunatic that has a badge making it legal. Corruption was in the city and going in with guns doesn't make that better in fact that makes things worse. No he had to use the one tool that coulnd't be beat but could be inspired and could be rewarded now and in the future of this city... in the future of his government. Oswald at the helm, Gordon out of work, and a whole city with its own decrees. A government in which information would be the new currency. Information to blackmail anyone, to buy and sell it. To put it on stock and to brign in heaps of money. To purchase machine guns, build a secret police and make the city a jumping point to controlling the whole United States.
Dreams were dreams though, but unlike dreams, this aroma smelled good to him. It smelled like cinnamon, tasted like rich chocolate cake. Stomach grumbling predictable alerted Oswald that he was hungry. The food was no fish, no cake, no pie, and certainly no money. He did miss Sherry. Sherry and her instincts and his birds. Birds were key.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2011 10:31:52 GMT -5
Without the presence of Scarface, ideas of power, manipulation, or revenge against the Federal Bureau of Investigations were well out of the reach of the Ventriloquist. From the dark corner of the jail cell, Wesker sneered when Ivy made her pretentious threat against the FBI, while the Penguin seemed to want to coerce the situation so that it would benefit him the most.
Wesker would simply play the part of pawn in the games of the chess pieces. When given a purpose, the psychopath would follow. It knew that Scarface wanted to rebuild their power base within the city, but with the playing field out of their league at the moment, they would have to leach onto someone else for the time being.
Between Ivy and Cobblepot, the Ventriloquist certainly favored Cobblepot. While Ivy had the personal power that had yet to reach its full potential, Cobblepot had the patience--tactium--and resources to pull off such a coup.
Yet, all of this thinking made the Ventriloquist dizzy, confused, and exhausted. It wiped the drool from It's mouth and slowly made It's way back to the cot. Moments after laying down the Ventriloquist was fast asleep.
Of course It snored while sleeping. Loud, deep, disgusting, as if each the snoring was removing phlegm which had accumulated deep down within the villain's throat due to neglect of hygiene. Which was not far from the truth of the situation.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Dec 24, 2011 14:26:22 GMT -5
Pamela looks over at Mr. Cobblepot with obvious irritation and perhaps even anger in her expression. Did he just say that? Really? "First of all, I did not say that they're not affecting anyone. That's blatantly obvious. I said that I don't care! Why should I? If they want to stir the city into chaos, I'd say let them have at it! But if they think that I'm going to sit in here and rot, they have another thing coming to them. And I have them to thank for the fact that I've been found out - and I intend to reward them for that properly," she says darkly and angrily.
She slides off the foot of her cot and onto her feet so that she can walk back over to the bars, so that she can glare at the Penguin properly. "And if you think for one moment that I will sit back and wait for a man to do it for me, think again. I do not need, want, or desire yours or anyone else's help for that. In fact I suspect that I could get the job done far quicker and easier than even you could, Mr. Cobblepot," she adds, her tone almost magically staying within the realm of 'polite' in spite of her obvious irritation and anger. In no way does she mean to insult him, but she does mean to make it clear that she considers her power to be above his.
Clearly being told to leave it to someone else has offended her greatly. She is, after all, an extremely capable, independent, and dangerous woman. Telling her that 'a classy and well educated woman such as herself' should let someone else takes care of her revenge might as well be telling her to go back to the kitchen. The only reason why she's remaining civil about it is because she does recognize that, since she's never done such a thing before, anyone else would view her schemes with a certain amount of skepticism. But just because one has never done a thing doesn't mean that she can't do it or that she doesn't know that she can.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a surge of loud snoring coming from the Ventriloquist's cell. Is there anything about that man that isn't disgusting? Though it mainly serves to make an already miserable locale even more miserable.
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