Prometheus - A DCAU Fanfic.

5

23:36 - Bludhaven Heights.

 The Penthouse suite, the Penguin had bought under a fake name, which he had been using as a safehouse, while he was in Bludhaven, was probably the closest thing to fancy, most of his guards would ever see in their lives.

The apartment was very large to start, spanning the 44th and 45th floors, of the nicest hotel in the city. It had an open living space, with few walls, which meant less cover, but the building made up for it, with reinforced, bulletproof glass windows, round the clock CCTV, and an emergency exit, hidden behind one of the panels in the living room. Apart from the security features, the suite had three bathrooms, four bedrooms, two with king size beds, and a kitchen, with not only a walk-in freezer, but also a connected wine cellar.

The crime-lord recruited from the slums of Gotham, promising food, warmth and shelter, to anybody willing to work, and sometimes die, for him. And though Penguin wasn't the nicest boss to work for, he was definitely superior to the Joker, or Two-Face. Who would kill you for no reason at all.

Penguin was also one to reward his men for good work, building a sort of loyalty to the mob boss. So when he asked for thirty thugs to act as his protection, while he worked on a deal in another city, a large group swiftly volunteered.

So, a small militia, geared with illegally obtain automatic weapons, sat about, and watched their boss, prepare for the first of his talks with the Bludhaven mob, tomorrow.

Due to Gotham being full of freaks, the Penguin, like many others, had garnered the reputation of having a monstrous appearance, specifically, rumours stated, he was a two-foot tall, obese, hairless man, with pale, almost ghost-like skin, small, beady eyes, a hooked nose, and a clubbed foot, who always wore a tuxedo and top-hat, and always carried an umbrella

But in reality, the Penguin, was quite an average looking man.

Sure, he was short, but he wasn't a dwarf. He was a bit overweight, but nothing near, what legends had told. He wasn't hairless, while it was receding, he did have a good amount of black hair on his head. His skin was pale-ish, but not see through. His eyes, well, one of his eyes, were normal, he needed a monocle for his right, after suffering an injury that almost blinded him. His nose was crooked, having been bent in a bar fight, and while he did limp, it wasn't because of a club foot, it was because of a gunshot, he had taken to his leg when he was a young man, and the umbrella was to support him.

He wasn't wearing a tuxedo or top-hat, instead, it was a crinkled dress-shirt, suspenders, a currently loosened business tie, and a pair of dark slacks and loafers

At the moment, he was in the midst of a phone call, with the Lieutenant he'd picked to run Gotham in his absence. When the man slammed the receiver of the rotary phone he was using back onto the base, before letting out of string of curses. - "Gotham police have just seized a truck full of guns. My guns." - He seethed, slamming his fist down on the desk.

"How much did you lose, Boss?" - His other Lieutenant, the one he brought with him to Bludhaven, asked.

"Just over two million dollars." - He spat, hobbling over to the small drinks trolley, room service had brought up to him, a few hours prior. He poured himself a small glass of whiskey from the decanter, he'd filled. - "Also, apparently some mercs are looking for me." - He said, in a tone that conveyed not fear, but anger.

"Uh, you want us to do a sweep, Boss?" - One of his goon's questioned, but Penguin just scoffed. 

"Of course not," - The man said, limping back to his desk, glass in hand. - "This place is a fortress, even if they know where I am, they won't be able to do anything. I'm untouchable." - As he finished his triumphant statement, the power to the apartment shut off, if not for the light emitted by the building's opposite, the suite would be eclipsed in total darkness.