capeandcowllogs | I'll just live on in the Dark

WHO: Anyone heading to the Iceberg Lounge
WHERE: At a damn fine building downtown
WHEN: 12/12; Night
WARNINGS: Will be edited if necessary.
SUMMARY: Opening night!
FORMAT: Whatever you want! Tag yo'selves in!

Walking into the bar is like walking into a wide open room, but the dimmed lights never seem to be bright enough to catch every detail in one swoop. To the far right wall is the bar, and a long bar it is, with bartenders lining it spaced by about five feet or so in between. Nobody actually sits at the bar, of course. The bartenders are there to make drinks for the servers. While both the bartenders and server girls wear tuxedos, the women's are made for the intent to actually catch the eye, of course. Fishnets replace slacks, dressshirts cut much lower than necessary, and tophats on each woman's head. They grin, and flirt, and make their way, but the moment a hand drifts too far, there's the legion of bouncers who line the walls, watching for any infraction. The Penguin is, after all a chauvenist, but he is no pig.

The middle of the wide area is devoted to tables, an endless sea of white clothed tables, each one a unique and different ice sculpture in the center. Each one unique, lit from beneath with a light that lets an almost wet light radiate from each table.

And of course to the left is the stage, performers that never cease to move, or sing, or whatever is up for the next part of the night. Breaks between each are sparse, quick, and the music never becomes too loud. And the stage, it is lined with penguins. A bit of irony, perhaps, but Penguin wouldn't begrudge his prior career as a gotham rogue. Perhaps he even reveled in the reminder. Out there for everyone to see.

Regardless, there would be no grand plots or schemes tonight. Just a party.

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[ Bares his teeth again, plucking the olive out of his drink. ]

Likely. Perhaps one day they even will. [ He chuckles. ] I'm not going back to that place.

[He watches Norman pluck that olive, wondering what prompted the abuse of green squishy things.]

No, perhaps not. Perhaps you'll simply die before that.

[ He bites into it, letting the pimento crunch in half. ]

And then I'd come back. You can bet I wouldn't be quiet about it.

Must you be loud and histrionic all of the time, Norman? Let someone else have the spotlight, goodness.

They need to earn it, like everyone else.

And you, you spend so much time earning, don't you? You're the height of the idea.

You're trying to get me to brag. [ Smirks dryly. ]

Really? Am I trying for that? [Callous wink.] I heard it's easier to get you to brag than to get you to bed.

Undoubtedly. It's much more comfortable talking about myself with my clothes on. [ He takes a sip of his drink, aggressively. ] Why, are you trying to find out?

So I can use it all against you in some nefarious, complex, labyrinthine plot. Naturally. [Another sip, mirroring Norman's pace.] Why won't you talk about this, with me, naked? Afraid of the parallels?

Parallels you began.

I'm not afraid of anything from you. Promise. [ Norman winks, scowling into his drink. ] I know all about manipulation, Nygma. Why should I let you catch you with my pants down?

Because a part of you, Norman -- a small, masochistic part of you -- actually really wants to be spanked. [He finished his drink, as a statement.]

[ Norman chokes on the last of his drink. He throws it in Eddie's face. ]

You are impressively delusional.

[The liquid hits his brow, his eyes and nose. He gasped, spluttering at the chill. Nearby, people stopped their conversations to stare.]

Well. [He said, at length.] That is hardly genteel behavior.

[ Norman sneers. ]

I miss the days when public discipline was more common. Sometimes it's the only way to really get a particular message across.

[ He cracks his knuckles, then uses his finger to catch a drip of vodka from Eddie's cheek. ]

[Eddie nearly flinches away, but resists. He knows that's what Norman wants, know that this is his retaliation for Eddie's verbal daggers. He exhales, his eyes not daring to blink with Norman's hand so close to his face.]

And what would you do, Norman? What could you do, that you haven't already done?

[ Norman's finger hesitates up by Eddie's eye, threatening. He smirks and withdraws it, licking the vodka off. He leans close to whisper. ]

Would you really want me answering that?

[His eyes narrow, hatred and fury bubbling up his throat. He's struck silent for a moment, caught in his own quiet wrath.

Then the smile splits.]

You've thought about it. Why, Norman, I'm almost touched. You touch me.

I wouldn't give you the satisfaction. [ Bares his teeth, looking satisfied at Eddie's anger. ]

But you've already touched me. In ways that one isn't always conscious of.

Or ways one can't help but notice. [ He casts a knowing look at Eddie's bruises. ]

[Eddie, in turn, casually disregarded the blatant gloating with a wipe of a cocktail napkin over his cheek, drying the places Norman's finger missed.]

I understand, if you can't help yourself.

You do bring out the worst in me. [ Muttered. It's still unclear whether or not he's smiling or just baring his teeth. ] Or did. I'm capable of controlling myself, you know.

Are you now? [His voice raises in volume, his eyes wide and staring over a static smile.] Are you really? Because every time you think that, Norman, something bad happens to you, doesn't it?

That isn't true. [ He hisses, molars grinding. ] Setbacks are normal. None of that was supposed to last forever, anyway. Bred a little healthy competition for the Avengers, didn't it? None of them were even remotely so productive before I came along.

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