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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵
𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮
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𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚
THE MUSIC WAS MAKING the room shake. The bass was thumping and the beat itself seemed to be alive. Some things are just that; alive. The people on the floor are alive. They are dancing, quite dirtily I might add, with each other. There is no such thing as traditional dancing anymore, this is what we call dancing these days. The dancing consists of grinding on the opposite or same sex and trying to get them to want to bone you.
That's it.
The ideas that once went into a club like this are null. Void. Nada. Even when Fish Mooney was in charge of this place there was none of this nonsense going on in her club. Now that it is under new management, there is no stopping point. Once part of the Underworld of Gotham, this club has risen in popularity and has made Falcone happy for a change. It's all due to the clever deception of one Penguin.
Not the cute little black and white animals that waddle around making their strange bird noises that seem to get anyone awwing. I'm talking about the person. He once despised the name, but, now he has grown into it. That's the name everyone knows him as. If anyone asked who Oswald Cobblepot was, they would be more confused than a fox trying to dig up a bed sheet.
I know who he is.
He used to be Fish Mooney's umbrella boy. Now he has risen to the top of the food chain. Just under Falcone, of course, but I don't doubt that he has a plan to rid Gotham of Falcone once and for all. Some things are just so predictable. Things such as the dark glint he has in his eyes right at this moment. He has something planned, or is planning for something to go horribly wrong.
"Accalia," Butch says hushed, clicking his fingers in my line of vision.
I shoot him a small glare and slap his hand away. "What now, Butch?"
"Penguin requires your assistance. He says it's urgent."
"Fine. I have to finish up here first. Make sure the silly little bird knows that."
