Post by Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin on Mar 7, 2012 17:21:56 GMT -5
Real Name: Oswald Cobblepot
Alias: The Penguin
Age: 42
Gender:Male
Occupation: Owner of the Iceberg Lounge, Criminal
Current Status: Rebuilding his empire.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Costumed Identity Known By Their Enemies? Yes
Costumed Identity Known By The General Public? Yes
Real Identity Known By Their Enemies? Yes
Real Identity Known By The General Public? Yes
Abilities/Skills:
He has an excellent mind for strategy and business, skills he uses on both his legal and illegal activities to try and force others into the outcome he wants.
He seems to have connections everywhere that enable him to get anything he or anyone else wants though he often likes to keep the best bits for himself.
His connections also allow him to gather a wealth of knowledge on as many people as he can which he keeps to himself until it's of some benefit. He never likes to make it clear just how much he knows but if a gap in his knowledge appears he'll be quick to try and fill it.
He possesses several umbrellas which though looking perfectly ordinary always conceal something. His favourite hides a gun but others also hide gas, acid, blades, missiles and anything else he's thought to have developed. They all seem to look the same but he knows which is which.
Judo expert.
He has a lot on money to play with.
Very good at training birds and various bird calls.
He has a healthy self preservation. He's no coward but if he has no reason to risk a fight he won't and if he believes he's certain to lose he'd rather run for it.
Weaknesses:
Physically he's short and rather fat.
He's greedy. If he thinks the profit is worth the risk he'll do something, if it all goes horribly wrong then he's in deep trouble.
He hates to see his birds come to harm, as a result they're not hard to use against him.
Appearance: Short and round Oswald doesn't exactly have intimidation on his side, if not for his impeccable style and strangely long pointed nose he might even risk being over looked. In the case of anyone over five foot quite literally so. Oswald Cobblepot will not stand for being overlooked though.
On a daily basis, whether he be around the lounge or attending a meeting with smugglers he always dresses in the formal attire of a tuxedo, complete with bow tie, top hat and monocle and of course umbrella. His hair is black, kept neat and short but only covers the sides of his head for on top he's gone bald.
Personality: Oswald Cobblepot is a refined and dignified gentleman. At least in public. He dresses his best every day and appears a courteous and charismatic man of business who understands the importance of catering to the elite of society, a group which he considers himself among.
In private or at least with only the staff he employs for his less than legal enterprises he's sneaky, easily angered and very quick to lose his temper. He doesn't care about people enough not to turn on them if they crossed him or it would be to his benefit. He hates to be called the Penguin and he makes it very well known to the people who work for him that they should watch their words or there will be painful consequences, he only puts up with the name from those he has to such as the other rogues.
He likes to have the upper hand and know everything to keep any potential threat under control. He likes to have several plans to ruin or kill the people he knows at any given moment rather than having to worry about things like trust and to force their hand when he needs them should they refuse. Money is more than acceptable but information is an equally important currency and what he has information wise he keeps firmly under his hat until there comes a time for it to benefit him. He will never admit to knowing things, just as he'd never admit if he doesn't know something but he hears a lot 'rumours' as he puts it. He's the middleman who can get people whatever they want for a price be it money, information or simply owing him a favour.
He often tries to smooth over fights or arrange a meeting when there's a particularly dangerous threat within Gotham, treating his ties to the underworld like any other part of his business even if he tries to keep it secret so he can maintain his standing in society.
Lastly there are his birds. Oh how he loves his dear sweet birds! He prone to acquiring new and exotic ones but if anything should happen to them someone would have to die very horribly indeed.
Background: Oswald was born into one of the rich and elite families of Gotham, a fact that mattered little to the other children when he was growing up. Short, fat and with a long beak like nose he was teased daily even without his mother's paranoia that he must always have an umbrella with him. Frequently he would try to leave it at home but she always noticed and threw a fit, endlessly retelling the story of how his father had got caught out in the rain and dies of pneumonia. Oswald didn't care, he barely remembered the man but he complied because she was his mother and it would make her stop squawking on about it.
So he was teased, no one would dare befriend him for fear of the bullies turning on them. He spent his lunches alone, sharing his food with the birds, a fact that the bullies were only too delighted to add to their reasons to torture him. They called him a bird, a freak, a Penguin. The name stuck. Frequently he fought back, he yelled, he insulted, kicked and punched. He broke his first nose on the playground with a swing of his umbrella but there were always too many of them and they would just gang up on him, beat him up and steal his things.
At least once a week he would come home battered and bruised. His mother didn't care, not really. She blamed teachers, she blamed his dead father, she blamed him, saying he must provoke them and then she drunk and shopped and spent time out with whoever in her circle of friends would still put up with her.
It was with the mansion to himself that he felt most at peace though, every evening he would go into the aviary and sit with his mother's birds. Talk to them, feed and train them. Such magnificent animals, they would never mock and hurt him, it was the birds he truly cared about, no one else.
So Oswald grew. He learnt the importance of connections and business among the wealthy elite, how to influence and control people to get what he wanted. He began to dress in tuxedos and compose himself like a dignified man of money, he also began to dabble in crime in secret. It began as revenge. An item stolen here, an 'accident' arranged there usually focused on those who dared to cross him, women who would laugh at his attention and any who continued to mock him.
He soon found he enjoyed it. None of his victims even considered that the polite man he'd become would do anything of the sort. Besides, he was rich, why would he need to?
Then his mother died. He still didn't care, he thought she'd drink herself to death a long time ago, he was looking forwards to some peace from her ranting but he didn't even get that in the end. She'd spent years squandering away the family money, hidden her debts, Oswald had no idea there were any until the repo-men came to the mansion. They took everything that wasn't nailed down. They took his birds.
Suddenly crime wasn't just a fun little hobby, empty or not he refused to sell the mansion and instead turned to illegal methods of reacquiring his fortune, mostly stealing from family friends still. There was a problem however, while he was perfectly capable of gathering expensive items he didn't yet know anyone who would willingly buy stolen goods. He decided the easiest option would be to join a gang. They would have the connections he needed and he would simply get a cut of the money. He was perfectly aware that any gang would laugh him out before they let him join though so he hatched a plan. His first big heist. There was a party being held at a gallery and naturally he was invited. He went in his finest tuxedo and while the everyone else was enjoying drinks he snuck away. He knew which painting was the most expensive and easily bypassed the security to steal the picture from it's frame and conceal it in a cylinder he'd hidden inside the handle of his umbrella specially for the robbery. It went off without a hitch, while the GCPD were busy wondering what happened and taking the statements of those at the party he managed to walk out the door with the painting.
The following day he went to his chosen mob, they laughed and he showed off his prize. He was in within minutes. For a time he even satisfied himself with just being a member of the gang but Oswald could never happily remain anywhere but on top. Orchestrating a fight with the leader while most of the mob was there to see it he shot him with his newly invented umbrella gun and quickly assumed leadership of the others.
He fondly recalls them as his rambunctious days. Ordering the mob around, stealing whatever he wanted and destroying anyone who got in his way, it was a great source of fun. He enjoyed the power and riches but those were also the days when Batman appeared. Things began going wrong more often and after his first stint in jail the name Penguin resurfaced thanks to the media. He hopped in and out of jail, making sure he hired the most expensive lawyers to keep him from remaining inside for too long but his reputation was ruined and he couldn't get anything done without someone always watching him to make sure they caught him when he slipped up.
It was during a particularly long stay in Blackgate that he decided he had to give it up and change. He formed a new plan and with his release he announced he was a changed man, that he was going straight and that he was going to become a legitimate businessman. Construction of the Iceburg Lounge begun soon after and together with it and several other choice businesses across the country he began to build a new empire.
Of course it was a cover. His criminal activities continued but more quietly and he was careful to be disconnected with them. He became the middleman, he gathered information and was the boss who sent his staff out to do his dirty work rather than having anything to do with it himself. The lounge took off and became popular, his reputation began to repair itself and once more he was successful and on top.
Cut to the entrance of the FBI into the city. He was an obvious target and if he stood any chance of maintaining everything he had he knew he couldn't simply go around blowing everything up until the retched men were all dead. Once more he had to sit in a jail cell, play it as dumb as he could get away with and wait. It would all fall apart, he was sure of it, he'd gathered all the information on the operation he could. Contingency plans were left with his assistant to see he wouldn't get into deadly trouble and to ensure his freedom would be granted afterwards but he was a tough old bird and they only found the more obvious bank accounts. No government would hold him forever. Several months longer than expected though it was, his freedom was assured and he could properly begin to rebuild rather than dodging messages between bribed police just to keep things afloat.
Current Associates:Rogues
Current Enemies:Batman, Other bat things
Other Relationships:
RP Sample: Oswald looked rough. Months stuck in a cell without a decent bath and a shave would do that to a man but today all that changed. Finally the city was free and so was the Penguin. Of course as soon as their ridiculous project fell to pieces they couldn't hold him, he'd planned ahead for this. Tiffany hadn't been a popular man, those he fired talked and finding those still within the force who would be open to a little bribery was child's play even for Oswald's assistant.
In the last weeks of the FBI's reign he'd seen to it that nearly all the evidence against him was mysteriously missing or tampered with to the point the FBI would look incompetent for even daring to use it. He'd also seen to it that a nice copy of other people's files would be waiting for him when he got home. Yes, you didn't need to go crawling through vents for this stuff if you just had enough money to throw at the right people.
When the blockades went down his lawyers moved in. He put up with a decent enough settlement by government standards, he just wanted to be out.
The day had come though. Of course it would be raining, it was just as well he had an umbrella! His things had been returned on the way out and as much as he very dearly wanted a cigarette just finally being properly dressed instead of in that vulgar jumpsuit cheered him greatly. He opened his umbrella on the steps of the government building and politely tipped his top hat to the lonely pair from the media who thought the Penguin getting out of a jail /again/ might be worth a story.
His car was waiting for him complete with one giant thug of a driver and his considerably smaller assistant, Linsey stood holding the door open. Good dependable woman but then Oswald was the only reason her father was getting the somewhat illegal medicine he needed to live. Good help was so much easier to find when someone they loved depended on them doing their job.
Settled into the car and finally out of sight of anyone but his staff he could finally relax, a long sigh escaping as he sunk into the back-seat and finally reached into his pocket to get his cigarettes out.
"The mansion" Linsey said to the driver as he got in before Cobblepot finally spoke up "No, the Lounge" his assistant looked surprised "But sir, we haven't been able to begi-" she stopped. Her boss was giving her a very dangerous look "The Lounge" he repeated, his voice a growl. With a quick nod Linsey backed down "Of course Mr Cobblepot" she nodded to the driver though he was already changing direction.
The Iceberg Lounge. Oswald had thought of it many times and wondered how it had faired without him. The answer was clear as soon as he saw the place, not well. With a click of his fingers the ordered the thug to get the boarded up doors open and get the power on and as soon as the light flickered into life he could truly assess the damage.
It was a mess. The pool around the giant iceberg in the middle of the main room had been drained and all that remained was a horrible sludgy bottom that smelt as disguising as it looked. The iceberg even looked stained from it and lord knows what they done with his seals. The bar had been smashed up and all the liquor stolen, half the tables had been over turned, some of the seats were in the pool though he imagined he'd have to replace them all just to get the smell out. Broken windows and lights and...he saw something move. A little rustle from near one of the tables...
Oswald squawked with rage as he saw a long, bald fat little tail hiding in a seat cushion and raised his umbrella, shooting one rat dead and sending three more squealing for cover. Rats?! There were rats in his lounge?! That damned FBI! He saw another rat and took some pleasure in imagining it was Agent Tiff as he shot it too.
Quickly he turned to Linsey and began to yell orders "Get a cleaning crew in here and find my damn animals! Salvage what you can, I want an inventory by tomorrow and search the records in the hidden security room" he pointed his umbrella angrily at the bar "Someone is going to pay for all this! Find me an exterminator, I want every one of these vermin dead!" Linsey was used to Oswald's temper and knew to keep quiet while he shouted, only noting down his orders and finally speaking again when he raged more silently "I have the files from the police records Sir" she said cautiously as she held up a memory stick "And your birds have already been returned to the mansion" he'd had most of them hidden away before he was even taken.
Oswald paused. The woman certainly knew how to cool his temper, perhaps a little too well for his liking but he did wish to go home and be with his birds. He took the memory stick "Very well done my dear. You have performed your work to beyond my expectations as always" he tipped his hat to the woman and left her to her work, shouting at the thug as he headed for the door "Mike! Take me home"
Alias: The Penguin
Age: 42
Gender:Male
Occupation: Owner of the Iceberg Lounge, Criminal
Current Status: Rebuilding his empire.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Costumed Identity Known By Their Enemies? Yes
Costumed Identity Known By The General Public? Yes
Real Identity Known By Their Enemies? Yes
Real Identity Known By The General Public? Yes
Abilities/Skills:
He has an excellent mind for strategy and business, skills he uses on both his legal and illegal activities to try and force others into the outcome he wants.
He seems to have connections everywhere that enable him to get anything he or anyone else wants though he often likes to keep the best bits for himself.
His connections also allow him to gather a wealth of knowledge on as many people as he can which he keeps to himself until it's of some benefit. He never likes to make it clear just how much he knows but if a gap in his knowledge appears he'll be quick to try and fill it.
He possesses several umbrellas which though looking perfectly ordinary always conceal something. His favourite hides a gun but others also hide gas, acid, blades, missiles and anything else he's thought to have developed. They all seem to look the same but he knows which is which.
Judo expert.
He has a lot on money to play with.
Very good at training birds and various bird calls.
He has a healthy self preservation. He's no coward but if he has no reason to risk a fight he won't and if he believes he's certain to lose he'd rather run for it.
Weaknesses:
Physically he's short and rather fat.
He's greedy. If he thinks the profit is worth the risk he'll do something, if it all goes horribly wrong then he's in deep trouble.
He hates to see his birds come to harm, as a result they're not hard to use against him.
Appearance: Short and round Oswald doesn't exactly have intimidation on his side, if not for his impeccable style and strangely long pointed nose he might even risk being over looked. In the case of anyone over five foot quite literally so. Oswald Cobblepot will not stand for being overlooked though.
On a daily basis, whether he be around the lounge or attending a meeting with smugglers he always dresses in the formal attire of a tuxedo, complete with bow tie, top hat and monocle and of course umbrella. His hair is black, kept neat and short but only covers the sides of his head for on top he's gone bald.
Personality: Oswald Cobblepot is a refined and dignified gentleman. At least in public. He dresses his best every day and appears a courteous and charismatic man of business who understands the importance of catering to the elite of society, a group which he considers himself among.
In private or at least with only the staff he employs for his less than legal enterprises he's sneaky, easily angered and very quick to lose his temper. He doesn't care about people enough not to turn on them if they crossed him or it would be to his benefit. He hates to be called the Penguin and he makes it very well known to the people who work for him that they should watch their words or there will be painful consequences, he only puts up with the name from those he has to such as the other rogues.
He likes to have the upper hand and know everything to keep any potential threat under control. He likes to have several plans to ruin or kill the people he knows at any given moment rather than having to worry about things like trust and to force their hand when he needs them should they refuse. Money is more than acceptable but information is an equally important currency and what he has information wise he keeps firmly under his hat until there comes a time for it to benefit him. He will never admit to knowing things, just as he'd never admit if he doesn't know something but he hears a lot 'rumours' as he puts it. He's the middleman who can get people whatever they want for a price be it money, information or simply owing him a favour.
He often tries to smooth over fights or arrange a meeting when there's a particularly dangerous threat within Gotham, treating his ties to the underworld like any other part of his business even if he tries to keep it secret so he can maintain his standing in society.
Lastly there are his birds. Oh how he loves his dear sweet birds! He prone to acquiring new and exotic ones but if anything should happen to them someone would have to die very horribly indeed.
Background: Oswald was born into one of the rich and elite families of Gotham, a fact that mattered little to the other children when he was growing up. Short, fat and with a long beak like nose he was teased daily even without his mother's paranoia that he must always have an umbrella with him. Frequently he would try to leave it at home but she always noticed and threw a fit, endlessly retelling the story of how his father had got caught out in the rain and dies of pneumonia. Oswald didn't care, he barely remembered the man but he complied because she was his mother and it would make her stop squawking on about it.
So he was teased, no one would dare befriend him for fear of the bullies turning on them. He spent his lunches alone, sharing his food with the birds, a fact that the bullies were only too delighted to add to their reasons to torture him. They called him a bird, a freak, a Penguin. The name stuck. Frequently he fought back, he yelled, he insulted, kicked and punched. He broke his first nose on the playground with a swing of his umbrella but there were always too many of them and they would just gang up on him, beat him up and steal his things.
At least once a week he would come home battered and bruised. His mother didn't care, not really. She blamed teachers, she blamed his dead father, she blamed him, saying he must provoke them and then she drunk and shopped and spent time out with whoever in her circle of friends would still put up with her.
It was with the mansion to himself that he felt most at peace though, every evening he would go into the aviary and sit with his mother's birds. Talk to them, feed and train them. Such magnificent animals, they would never mock and hurt him, it was the birds he truly cared about, no one else.
So Oswald grew. He learnt the importance of connections and business among the wealthy elite, how to influence and control people to get what he wanted. He began to dress in tuxedos and compose himself like a dignified man of money, he also began to dabble in crime in secret. It began as revenge. An item stolen here, an 'accident' arranged there usually focused on those who dared to cross him, women who would laugh at his attention and any who continued to mock him.
He soon found he enjoyed it. None of his victims even considered that the polite man he'd become would do anything of the sort. Besides, he was rich, why would he need to?
Then his mother died. He still didn't care, he thought she'd drink herself to death a long time ago, he was looking forwards to some peace from her ranting but he didn't even get that in the end. She'd spent years squandering away the family money, hidden her debts, Oswald had no idea there were any until the repo-men came to the mansion. They took everything that wasn't nailed down. They took his birds.
Suddenly crime wasn't just a fun little hobby, empty or not he refused to sell the mansion and instead turned to illegal methods of reacquiring his fortune, mostly stealing from family friends still. There was a problem however, while he was perfectly capable of gathering expensive items he didn't yet know anyone who would willingly buy stolen goods. He decided the easiest option would be to join a gang. They would have the connections he needed and he would simply get a cut of the money. He was perfectly aware that any gang would laugh him out before they let him join though so he hatched a plan. His first big heist. There was a party being held at a gallery and naturally he was invited. He went in his finest tuxedo and while the everyone else was enjoying drinks he snuck away. He knew which painting was the most expensive and easily bypassed the security to steal the picture from it's frame and conceal it in a cylinder he'd hidden inside the handle of his umbrella specially for the robbery. It went off without a hitch, while the GCPD were busy wondering what happened and taking the statements of those at the party he managed to walk out the door with the painting.
The following day he went to his chosen mob, they laughed and he showed off his prize. He was in within minutes. For a time he even satisfied himself with just being a member of the gang but Oswald could never happily remain anywhere but on top. Orchestrating a fight with the leader while most of the mob was there to see it he shot him with his newly invented umbrella gun and quickly assumed leadership of the others.
He fondly recalls them as his rambunctious days. Ordering the mob around, stealing whatever he wanted and destroying anyone who got in his way, it was a great source of fun. He enjoyed the power and riches but those were also the days when Batman appeared. Things began going wrong more often and after his first stint in jail the name Penguin resurfaced thanks to the media. He hopped in and out of jail, making sure he hired the most expensive lawyers to keep him from remaining inside for too long but his reputation was ruined and he couldn't get anything done without someone always watching him to make sure they caught him when he slipped up.
It was during a particularly long stay in Blackgate that he decided he had to give it up and change. He formed a new plan and with his release he announced he was a changed man, that he was going straight and that he was going to become a legitimate businessman. Construction of the Iceburg Lounge begun soon after and together with it and several other choice businesses across the country he began to build a new empire.
Of course it was a cover. His criminal activities continued but more quietly and he was careful to be disconnected with them. He became the middleman, he gathered information and was the boss who sent his staff out to do his dirty work rather than having anything to do with it himself. The lounge took off and became popular, his reputation began to repair itself and once more he was successful and on top.
Cut to the entrance of the FBI into the city. He was an obvious target and if he stood any chance of maintaining everything he had he knew he couldn't simply go around blowing everything up until the retched men were all dead. Once more he had to sit in a jail cell, play it as dumb as he could get away with and wait. It would all fall apart, he was sure of it, he'd gathered all the information on the operation he could. Contingency plans were left with his assistant to see he wouldn't get into deadly trouble and to ensure his freedom would be granted afterwards but he was a tough old bird and they only found the more obvious bank accounts. No government would hold him forever. Several months longer than expected though it was, his freedom was assured and he could properly begin to rebuild rather than dodging messages between bribed police just to keep things afloat.
Current Associates:Rogues
Current Enemies:Batman, Other bat things
Other Relationships:
RP Sample: Oswald looked rough. Months stuck in a cell without a decent bath and a shave would do that to a man but today all that changed. Finally the city was free and so was the Penguin. Of course as soon as their ridiculous project fell to pieces they couldn't hold him, he'd planned ahead for this. Tiffany hadn't been a popular man, those he fired talked and finding those still within the force who would be open to a little bribery was child's play even for Oswald's assistant.
In the last weeks of the FBI's reign he'd seen to it that nearly all the evidence against him was mysteriously missing or tampered with to the point the FBI would look incompetent for even daring to use it. He'd also seen to it that a nice copy of other people's files would be waiting for him when he got home. Yes, you didn't need to go crawling through vents for this stuff if you just had enough money to throw at the right people.
When the blockades went down his lawyers moved in. He put up with a decent enough settlement by government standards, he just wanted to be out.
The day had come though. Of course it would be raining, it was just as well he had an umbrella! His things had been returned on the way out and as much as he very dearly wanted a cigarette just finally being properly dressed instead of in that vulgar jumpsuit cheered him greatly. He opened his umbrella on the steps of the government building and politely tipped his top hat to the lonely pair from the media who thought the Penguin getting out of a jail /again/ might be worth a story.
His car was waiting for him complete with one giant thug of a driver and his considerably smaller assistant, Linsey stood holding the door open. Good dependable woman but then Oswald was the only reason her father was getting the somewhat illegal medicine he needed to live. Good help was so much easier to find when someone they loved depended on them doing their job.
Settled into the car and finally out of sight of anyone but his staff he could finally relax, a long sigh escaping as he sunk into the back-seat and finally reached into his pocket to get his cigarettes out.
"The mansion" Linsey said to the driver as he got in before Cobblepot finally spoke up "No, the Lounge" his assistant looked surprised "But sir, we haven't been able to begi-" she stopped. Her boss was giving her a very dangerous look "The Lounge" he repeated, his voice a growl. With a quick nod Linsey backed down "Of course Mr Cobblepot" she nodded to the driver though he was already changing direction.
The Iceberg Lounge. Oswald had thought of it many times and wondered how it had faired without him. The answer was clear as soon as he saw the place, not well. With a click of his fingers the ordered the thug to get the boarded up doors open and get the power on and as soon as the light flickered into life he could truly assess the damage.
It was a mess. The pool around the giant iceberg in the middle of the main room had been drained and all that remained was a horrible sludgy bottom that smelt as disguising as it looked. The iceberg even looked stained from it and lord knows what they done with his seals. The bar had been smashed up and all the liquor stolen, half the tables had been over turned, some of the seats were in the pool though he imagined he'd have to replace them all just to get the smell out. Broken windows and lights and...he saw something move. A little rustle from near one of the tables...
Oswald squawked with rage as he saw a long, bald fat little tail hiding in a seat cushion and raised his umbrella, shooting one rat dead and sending three more squealing for cover. Rats?! There were rats in his lounge?! That damned FBI! He saw another rat and took some pleasure in imagining it was Agent Tiff as he shot it too.
Quickly he turned to Linsey and began to yell orders "Get a cleaning crew in here and find my damn animals! Salvage what you can, I want an inventory by tomorrow and search the records in the hidden security room" he pointed his umbrella angrily at the bar "Someone is going to pay for all this! Find me an exterminator, I want every one of these vermin dead!" Linsey was used to Oswald's temper and knew to keep quiet while he shouted, only noting down his orders and finally speaking again when he raged more silently "I have the files from the police records Sir" she said cautiously as she held up a memory stick "And your birds have already been returned to the mansion" he'd had most of them hidden away before he was even taken.
Oswald paused. The woman certainly knew how to cool his temper, perhaps a little too well for his liking but he did wish to go home and be with his birds. He took the memory stick "Very well done my dear. You have performed your work to beyond my expectations as always" he tipped his hat to the woman and left her to her work, shouting at the thug as he headed for the door "Mike! Take me home"
