The Mansion

The tall gangly looking man twirled into the room, arms flailing out as he waved around a long thickly crowbar in the air. The crowbar seemed to have drowned when he bumped into the wall and fell down on a nearby chair, toppling over into and knocking himself to the floor. He gigged on the way down, his fall breaking as his back met hard to the floor. Now this! This was the life, he thought to himself as he sat up and clapped his hands together. Better make it burn!

Chuckling, he expected and arm and reached for Billy Jean, his trusty crowbar complain. "Shut up. All my play toys have names." He chuckled darkly to himself, speaking to no one in particular. Jumping to his feet he gave a whistle and swung his hands up in the air. Scrunching his left fist tight, he madly punched the air before him. "Veronica!" Then the right fist. "And Jackie!"

Skipping away to a nearby couch, he threw the crowbar down and flopped backward, plopping in a pile of fluffy cushions. Titling his neck back, he sank further into the couch and brought his arms to his head, tucking his hands behind. With a sigh, he licked his lips and closed his eyes. He sat like his for a few, until the suspicion of being watched overcame him. His eyes, although still closed, narrowed.

"You know..." He spoke out loud, bringing right his hand to his legs and spreading them, letting a palm slide roughly down his thigh. "Jackie gets very lonely sometimes...but oh she's a bad girl!" He growled, clutching his knee. Slowly his eyes fluttered opened and he barred a wild grin. "Hello, papa bird...." He winked, running a tongue along his teeth. "Ooh, Jackie likes!"

Loudly, he tore back his head and gave a violent laugh, kicking his legs int the air and nearly falling off the couch into the glass table nearby. Instead he managed to roll off the floor and hit his back on top his crowbar. He made a wince of pain, but still got up to his feet and continued snickering.

Oswald merely sighed and glared at the man.

Was this a man at all, really?

"Look, can we possibly attempt to get back on track here?"  He hated this ...creature. He made him nervous in a way no one else did, even with all the collection of freaks and miscreants that Gotham carried in its bosom, this was the worst of the worst. And so where was Jerome, the one often seen now in the company of this monster? Monster, yet! Oswald had to laugh silently to himself at this little self-finding of opinion - after all, he had cooked people and fed them to others, and done a half dozen other horrific acts and then slept easy that night. Monster? They were all in very good company and he knew it, but ....

Yeah, Monster.

Oswald was afraid of him.

"Are you listening to me? Look ... I don't know what you're trying to accomplish with all this, but we're here for one very specific thing, aren't we. Do you even remember what that is?"



Jerome Valeska was a handsome young man, and both men and women seemed to appreciate this fact -- he had always swung both ways, but now with Joker, things seemed to have sort of evened out for his love life. Oswald would have perhaps been amused to know that Jerome felt the same thing for his lover that Oswald did about the man, Monster. And it was always Monster with a capital M. BIG M. MONSTER .....Monster! The Bogeyman, the Bad Thing Under The Bed ...

The one he let fuck him into oblivion.

The one he insisted fuck him into oblivion.

He had tried to leave once : just once. Joker had very nearly cut his throat, had in fact, but only just barely shy of fatal.

"Am I late to the party?"

Picking up his crowbar, he sat back down and kicked his leg crossed, eyes carefully inspecting the stick of metal and running a long pale finger over a speck of rust. "Ozzie. Ozald. Ozward. Ozith. You know," He eyes squinted back up the the penguin, licking his lips decidedly. "I'd bet you' taste like chicken. I mean come on, have you ever ate a penguin before? You could, you could resort to cannibalism you know? I'm mean, YOU are the ultimate penguin, you could just.." He motioned with his hands, waving the crowbar around frantically, "round up an bunch of mini yous and build a farm. A penguin farm. Selling meat, you know, penguin meat? Not that I'd ever disgest a penguin but you I'd put you in my stomach any day of the week."

He didn't respond to Oswald. Well, he did, but...it was at this point he was lost in the land of joker...well. His mind so to say. And who knew what went on in there. What the hell was he even talking about and when did the subject of penguin meat come up to topic? Well, if one thing was for sure he sure did reply on shock factor. Or more accurate, he didn't have to reply on it. He was completely nuts.

Right as he was about to answer Oswald last question, the question that had just popped in mind, a figure entered and his eyes lit up.

He loved Jerome. No, it was more than that. Jerome was an obsession.

He saw himself in the lightened eye of the small gingered boy and ooh yes, though Jerome was a perfect representation of himself as a young killer, there was always that controlling need. That overpowering need to change everything about him and mold him into the perfect murder. And maybe that was the default.

But of course it couldn't have been. Everytime the boy tried to leave he'd panic and hunt him down, eventually tying him to the bed and threatening to keep his eyeballs as a necklace so he'd never leave his sight. That did resolve into almost silting his throat and snuggling his face face for hours with multiple kisses before finally untying him and continuing around round of wild sex, but after that, he really couldn't remember why he had gotten upset in the first place.

Point being, Jerome was treated like a possession. And to the joker, he couldn't stand him being out of his sight. Maybe he was too madly infatuated.

"Hey sugar doll!" He grinned.
Stretching up to his feet he skipped over and wrapped a pair of hands around Jerome's waist. His head tilted down, eyeing the man's chest before glazing up to his chin and mouth, his fingers running smoothly against the fabric sides of Jerome's hips. "Mm.." He grumbled, tearing his eyes away to Oswald, licking his lips seductively. "Of course Jackie gets the job done, but oh, Jerome here, is my favorite weapon!"

Turning back to Jerome, he presses a kiss to his Forehead, smiling against his skin as he holds him.

Oswald watched Joker and his young Jerome.

A sick sort of horror had settled over him at the man's words, and the gradually dawning realization that he meant every goddamned filthy word was settling down now into the very fabric of his being. He'd eat him. Maybe ... maybe he meant sexually, maybe he meant literally, but the Penguin had the definite sense he meant rather first one, then the other, all in perfect order of sick. Sick man. The term was bandied around so much -- and yet here he was, in all his glory, the very epitome of it all, right here in flesh and blood.

"What ..."

Oswald swallowed, and Jerome laughed at him. It was a very distinct and very pointed 'laughing at him' because he took the time, trouble and care to actually to point and laugh, the very extreme of mockery right there, and all for him. Just like the good old days - just like last week, maybe. Edward had mocked him. Fuck .. and hadn't THAT hurt. He tried to compose himself, and Jerome didn't stop. His cackling laughter was contagious in some unknown and terrifying way, and Oswald's frightened eyes went wide as he joined in.

Helpless to compose himself now, or so it seemed.

"Baby .. I got you babe ..."  He closed his eyes. Jerome was singing the old Sonny and Cher song. Oswald felt like screaming, and then running, if he only were able to do so. Run and run and run, and never stop. "I got youuuuuuuuu baaaaaaabe ..........."

Oh God, what had he invited into his home?

When Jerome finally did attack him, Oswald knew no surprise.

Taking a quick step, he yanked Jerome away from Oswald by his hair. "Aww..Isn't he cute?" He gave a purr, randomly licking the side of his face with a grin. His eyes stared coldly towards penguin, then releasing his lover from his grip he shoved him away. He didn't want to attack Oswald just yet. Not really. It would be more fun to mess with him.

Tossing his crowbar aside, he lurked over to Oswald, looming above him. His lips twitched and eyes squinted, staring loosely into his as his head on his shoulders. "Penguin." He pronounced. "Penguin...Mr...Penguin...," his eyes glanced downward, trailing a finger across his tie before waving in front of his face. "You know," he spoke, starting to circle around as he eyed him like a predator, "Your a bit of a cutie. Bet you've got a little bit of a weapon in you. Bit of a bad boy in there somewhere? Your...lover... must..be....proud! Would you think so, a gorgeous intelligent man like yourself?"

Running a hand over his shoulder from behind, he leaned in and whispered, voice against his ear. "Ed-ward-Nyg-ma. Now there's a bad boy! Aren't you lucky? Does he taste like penguin too?" He was taunting him. Teasing him. Oh yes, he knew there was some conflict between Oswald and Edward. The green haired man snickers to himself, pushing Oswald forwards by the shoulders and taking a wide step, being careful so that he wouldn't get hit. He was literally asking to be slapped anyways.

Pushing Oswald to the ground his eyes motioned up to Jerome with a great evil grin. "OH, J-baby?" He sang, twirling a hand to the left, where the forgotten crowbar laid upon the floor. "Would you care to do the honors?"
Knowing Jerome he would probably bash his head inward. Who knows what exactly the honor was he had in mind. But the green haired man was a man of fear. Not that he insisted upon in, fear to him was in a way oldly simalr to the frightened reaction of telling a dead baby joke. A shocker to the audience. He loved a good laugh, but above all shock factor was his number one motive. And Oswald, probably frightened out of his mind to the point he'd shit himself...fighting back wouldn't help the penguin. Besides, with his leg he wouldn't be able to run fast enough.

"Maybe we should clip your wings..." He mumbled to himself, kicking a foot against his legs before squatting over and sit down ontop the man, keeping him him pinned down. "Of course, penguins don't have wings, they have flippers..." He raised an eye, shoulder's shrugging as he ran a finger down and up the back of Oswald's spine. Oh god, Oswald was in deep shit now.

"But YOU, papa bird, do you know why I'm....HERE??"

Oswald was shocked at his own ability right now to feel and manifest sheer, utter terror.

This man was not the right man. This man was no one he needed to have here in his house, and there had to be some way - had to be something - anything, anything at all - that was going to result in reigning this cocksucker back in again, knocking him back down to size. Some measure of control, that's what was called for and what was needed here. He was, after all, here to work for Penguin. Wasn't that the case? Wasn't that the thing, the real situation? Or had Oswald made a mistake? Maybe .. just maybe he HAD made a mistake then. Because ... the Joker didn't really seem to get that. Like - as in - not at all, not even a fraction. Oswald had invited in a madman, and a madman of the likes of which he had never actually experienced before, not even in the Asylum. Arkham would cringe before a man of this caliber of sheer insane.

"You're working for me." Oswald attempted to straighten it all out. Get them back on the right footing. For him to even think this, was a real hoot, and he knew it. Yet somehow he could not even manage to crack a smile right now.



Jerome was a boy in love.

Jerome was a mad boy in love ... with a madman.

His lover was so lethal it made everything and everyone else seem to pale by comparison. A lethality - was that even a word - hell no, of course it wasn't. A lethality. Yes, well he'd just frigging make up a whole new brand spankin' word. Lethality, fuck yeah! Oh life was good when your arse was frequently jammed and rammed by the deadliest and most merciless 'man' ( monster) in any town on this planet. Sex was so ... satisfying. Gore and screams and the stuff of nightmares, and coming was so fast, so easy, so repeatable, so - unique. Jerome didn't care anymore about any sense of right or wrong, but that held true to the fact that he did not know right and wrong. He understood they did exist, but their values and measures and importance were lost on him, and always had been.

He'd had a vision ...

A bat.

It was extremely erotic and he had been the man's prisoner, and oh the pleasure of that sweet bondage and terror ...

"The Batman!!..."

He laughed at Oswald's expression. "He's coming. The One Who Is To Come ...is coming...gettit ???!!"

The Oswald...he knew he was dodging the question. But then again. He was too wasn't he? Ah. Well. no one ever said playing fair wasn't part of the rules. So he reflected on Oswald's answer. "I'm working for..." You, his brain corrected him. His lips flatly frowned into the most unamused face he could muster. That. That wasn't even...The whole answer that had escaped from Oswald lip's just seemed like a question to him. The pale and grim and did not get it.

"I'm..." He repeated, griping the back of Oswald's shirt rather violently as he leaned down to the fancy man's shoulder, once again whispering words in his ear. "I'm here because I want to be here. Now. I'm, no professional. But think. Why do I have to work for you? Why should I ...why should you want me to? Hell why should you?!"

He jumped back up, getting to his feet. Manically, he started pacing beside him. "All day and night, all night all day. You work your ass off for the big green q. Mr. Capital letter question mark eh? Why? What's the reason? What's the point? So you can run around here and there with your fancy suit in your perky club, shaking your ass and allowing yourself to be treated like a dog with no respect?" Scoffing, he waved his hand around. "And here, I thought you had something to be proud of. "

"You should be more assertive." He licked his lips, planted and elbow as he leaned on Jerome's shoulder. "See, my j-baby, here? He's assertive. And do you know why?" Taking a step back, he mentioned a hand to him, then slow but closely started to spin around him in circles. "Because he takes what he wants, controls what he needs, and whenever he just doesn't like something he say ok fuck let's kill it!" The green haired man exclaimed excitedly with a grin, slapping a hand to the redheads ass. Just then, his voice darkened. "And a leader in control can't have that."

Quickly he took a step back, waltzing around the room. "See your problem is. You don't just do whatever. You let this Mr. Nygma order. You. AROUND. And I think you'd be better capable...in control. In command. King of Gotham." He licked his lips. "And how nice would that be? To have Gotham begging at your feet, and Mr. Nygma..." Twirling a finger around in the air he turned his head back to Oswald with a sly cheeky grin. "Wrapped around your finger?"

Oswald frowned deeply.

"I'm being a generous man and looking past the gibberish. Ed does not order me around. Not even a teense. I don't know, honestly, where you can even get that shit from because it is not true and is not the case and I cannot even imagine where you get that shit from because --" Repeating himself and quite gracelessly too now. Ozzie bit his lip, and sighed, shaking his head. "Look. Shaking my ass hasn't exactly been my thing, these days. You have a very odd idea about me, and what I do or want to do." Why had he even invited this - these - creatures here at all? As much as Oswald loved freaks and weirdos -- and he was - admittedly - very often called just that by other non- freaks -- these two were over the top and then some.

Jerome was just silent, silent, silent.

Watching, his strange, bemused eyes locked onto Oswald. Oswald felt it, and saw, and knew, but his racing heartbeat wasn't going to allow him to make much of a real difference right now. He had to be careful. He was careful, but he was also getting angry and that wasn't going to work out very well at all -- he knew this too, but when that old temper really flared up --

Penguin looked back to Joker. THE Joker. Right, yes, of course. The man had a quality of Demon and Devil about him, a non human-ness that had nothing to do with being an outcast or a freak, nothing to do at all with being different, maimed and set aside as broken and wrong. He was broken yes, but he was also wrong, and so was Jerome. They oozed not only insanity but true evil.

It was really something.

"Get down there and torture Moriarty." Ozzie finally ground out in a hoarse and shell shocked voice. "NOW."

He was...well. He wasn't paying attention. In fact, he'd grown more uninterested the more Oswald didn't seem to play along. Like old prank that had been worn out. Or...
Suddenly his face light up with delight as Oswald's lips spoke words that appeared to brighten up the whole entirety of his situation.

"NO? No!?!" He gaped in disbelief, tearing his head around to gasp in the most horrific way at penguin. "oh, but to me you have an very odd idea. And about me," he licked his lips, then decidedly twirled around the room in circles,"I love...DANCING!"
The words bit off his teeth like a disfigured growl. Slowly he raised both fists into the air, fingers griping expressively into sharp clutching claws. Teen clicking togther, he looked up to the ceiling, at random too, and his eyes absolutely sparkled with madness.

"The thrill! Yes, what a rush! having all those men surround you, their bodies lying on top of each other upon lifeless rotten piles on the cold decaying floor and let tell ya!" a wide grin spread across his edged red piked lips, as his hands snaked downward to -ahem- make the room more uncomfortable then things were already headed. Who knows what he was even talking about now.

"I can make this booty rain any day of the week...Mmm!!!" He purred, spinning around on the tip of his foot.

When Oswald voice yelled with shock, he unaffectedly tore off the long cloak of his purple jacket, not even giving a fuck. Oswald demanded him to torture his little toy. Okay sure. But first..something had to be done. He needed to prove a point. 

"Alright. Okay. I get ya." Slowly, he pulled out a knife -only god knows where he had been storing that thing- then sashayed over to Oswald, waving the dreaded weapon around the air carelessly. "but think about what I said..." He swayed both hands up to his face, pointing them to his scared smile, lips stretching and his red stained teeth curving into a raw sinister grin. "And don't. Forget." His voice darkened. Then quickly transformed into a shady snicker. "TA-TA, papa bird! He giggled, voice returning once again to its not good jokester tone.

With a pretty wink of an eye and and a rather obscene wave of a goodbye kiss, he left, skipping out of he room and exiting down the hall.

Oh yes. The hall. The once empty quiet pathway in which would take him to Moriarty's prison reside, soon would fill rowdily with loud manic noises, both mixtures of laughter and nonsense whispers of a truly insane man.

That was never a good sign.

(((OOC: to cellar!)))

Oswald waited, Jerome sitting across from him cross legged on the very floor itself like some malignant version of a hippie, eyes blazing dangerous evil and every bad intention that had ever existed since the Creation. He couldn't take that stare, and Oswald finally simply moved to follow where the Joker had gone some minutes before.

"Little piggy."

He would ignore Jerome's psychotic whisper.

He would.

Ozzie suddenly wanted to run, very far, and very fast, neither of which was ever going to be possible for him. He took a deep breath, and walked on painfully, his usual hobble so much worse. Jerome's words hot behind him. Ugly, past ugly.

"When they invented the word freaks they used you as a prototype. Y'know, I LOVE freaks. But for some reason ... I hate you, Penguin. Isn't that something? A freak so sickening even the King of Freaks can't stand his crippled ass. How about that!!"


(( Oswald fleeing to the Cellar ))

He was quick to escape the room. After all, he didn't want an angry Jerome gawking death stares in his direction, nor did he want to deal with a confused and scared Edward trying to expose his secret.

"One of us was gonna end up like this anyways." He grumbled to himself, storming down the halls and leaving Jerome behind, making way to the front door. He didn't realize he was being followed.

Jim and Oswald? Until now they had no importance. That was until Jerome went wild and Edward had to call off the fun. Now, thanks to him, Jim just had to live. And Oswald was gonna die, which was a shame because he liked torturing that fancy little penguin man. And Ed was gonna have to die with him eventually, but it made things worse with Jerome against him because he didn't really want to kill his lover. But this was Jerome and it was kill or be killed.

Having almost approached the door, he turned around to Jerome, lips licking together as he gawked down at the floor in a lost trance. "You know hon," he mumbled darkly, his head tilted to the side. His eyes squinted. "Have I never said I loved you?"

His head tossed around, dark black softening in an almost fragile look, a moment of tenderness. He didn't want to explain. Half heartedly, he gave a soft laugh, light and little, not one that his usually murderous self embraced. Not one of those grim and dark, ' I'm going to stab you multiple times and whether or not you'll like it or not at least I'll try to kill you, ' grins. No. This was a look of something else. Not a look Jerome had seen often, but he knew, he'd recognize it.

In the pocket of his coat, his white boney fingers reached for a knife. He wasn't going to explain. After all, how could he? For some odd reason in his mind, the idea floated around that Jerome had to die. Or at least before he did.

He could have whipped it out and gashed him there on the neck, leaving him bleeding in a pretty red paint pool for Oswald to clean up. But he didn't. Instead, his fingers stayed there, trembling in the pit of his pocket. He looked down to the floor, unsurely, as if he was indecisive if he was really going to carry on with the process of killing his lover. Quickly he made up his mind, yanking open the door and slamming it hard and coldly in his face with a loud closing thud. Leaving him there, with the intention to walk forward an never look back, he headed away.

From a distance, a little fuzz of blond peeked through the back of a shady green bush.
Alas, here was Sebastian, the great solider himself, in hiding.

Three hours earlier, he had drug Richard all the way to the hotel where they would be staying, but having finally unpacked, and by unpacked, just stuffing things on the bed and before hurrying back out to the door, it didn't take long for Sebastian to finally realize Richard was not waiting outside where he said he would be. The plan was to hurry and get Richard there safely, grab a gun and leave him locked in the room so he wouldn't cause mischief, then bust ass over to somewhere and look for clues. But Richard wasn't standing outside the room, waiting and looking at the hotel painting mounted on the wall like he said he would do.

Where the bloody fuck fuck was that little fucker? He cursed, searching the parking lot for any suspicious places Richard would be hiding. It didn't take long before a few cop cars drove by, giving him a strange eyes and wonder why a super buff blond man was loitering around a hotel parking lot with a gun? So, having notice choice, he had vanished the scene and made way to the mansion.

He'd gotten there by asking a round a few strangers, somehow knew Oswald well, then tracking down his location, which, wasn't too hard to do, considered google map had the right address. But worry still churned his gut. Mostly Jim, but also the fear that Richard would be forever lost. Jim and Severin wouldn't forgive him, if anything at all happened to him. But right now it was Jim, Jim was the number one priority.

Crouching from behind a bush, the sniper uttered a silent string of curses, he had been sitting in his uncomfortable position long enough to the point his but was hurting like hell and his hands where covered in bruises and thorn blisters, having been tying to hold himself up on the ground so he didn't fall into the bush. Well, he wasn't exactly in a good hiding position after all.

Watching the joker and his gingered boyfriend from the distance, his eyes turned away only for a split second to fix up his gun and get ready, preparing to take one of those mother fuckers out!

Eyes heading back at the joker, he began to take aim.

Instantly, Sebastian pulled the trigger. The loud sound of a bang, erupting violently through the air. Backward, the Joker tackled to the ground. The bullet missed by a mere centimeter, but it didn't help the situation anymore than it should have. The sound was from a large gun, much more bigger than Jerome could possible be hiding in the back of his pants nor anywhere hidden on him. But joker couldn't have known that, instead, he sat up, clothes messed from having fallen flat to the dirt and through an angry glare he stared, his brown eyes bulleting an evil look to Jerome.

"What." His flop of green hair flipped as he retrieved to his feet, head turning around to reveal a scowl spread wide upon his furious raging face. His pasty white face caked a very violent pastel red. If this was JOKE, he wasn't frowning.

A second ago, he had just tried to kill Jerome, then hesitated. Now, as if he had forgotten everything, the whole kill Jerome scenario disappeared and he just had no fucking clue what was going on. There was only one thing he could make out and that was that someone had tried to kill him. He hadn't spotted Sebastian yet, but the all mistakenly obvious and paranoid was pointing to his lover. Or ex-lover.

Which ever one he was of course.

Growling, he got up to his feet and gave Jerome the most killer smile he could muster. Then, coldly, he laughed. "And here I thought you felt the same."

From afar, Sebastian cursed, unburying himself from the bushes to scamper away, or a least try to, without being noticed.

Jerome had rushed after him in a torrid flurry of afterthought, mind and heart racing even if a bit muddled as to acual content. "Wait!!" Then the shot. Jerome's soul froze up in a very strange way at that sound and all he could really do now was keep running towards his mad lover. "Wait!!" he shouted again as if somehow the second time it might just take.

He could not be dead.

If he was dead then he had to return to mortal life. Failing that, Jerome would follow him across. Hell to the yes on that one. But there he was.

"Asshole!!!!!! Whhhhhyy?????"

"Why not." he self answered. Stood there and smiled. "Of course I feel the same as you."

Could he say it.

"I love you."

He laughed very happily. "Sooo....time to die?"