call it what you want || nygmobblepot x oc ✅

Getaway Car

POV Five Jackson

The next two days are... eventful. Oswald has a few meetings, so I accompany him to them. But most of the time, he's holed up in his study with Nygma, who watches me when he thinks I'm not looking. You are not discreet. Ozzie and I spend a lot of time reading, walking around the house, and wondering what the fuck is going on.

And then I find out from a stolen snippet of their conversation- "Make Gotham safe again" is a decent enough tagline for Oswald's mayoral campaign. Of course this means he'll be even more of a target. Being the mayor of the most crime-riddled city in the country will do that to a guy. I'll certainly have my work cut out for me. But right now, he's safe, which is what matters.

Am I sure he'll be mayor? Yeah. It's him vs. Aubrey James and James is a useless sack of shit. Come on. We all know he'll win.

They're busy, so I put Ozzie in my room and leave the house. I don't go into the city, instead, I go to the docks nearest to the house. The dock's got a pier just above it- there's a reason nobody but boaters come to the lower docks, it's grimy and darker down here. But what I'm here for are the pillars. There are wooden pillars that hold up both the upper piers and lower docks. They're sturdy,and I take one of my knives out of my boot and stand in a corner of the wooden platform. I adjust my stance and throw the knife diagonally across the dock. It lands with a solid thud into the wood, lodging in and sticking hard. I grin. If I'd been angled incorrectly, the knife would have gone sailing into the water behind the pillar, to the side of the dock. But I was head-on, just like usual.

I go over and pull the knife from the wood, and return to my original place. I throw it again and again. Then I decide to up the ante- I ruck up my shirt and pull another knife from my waistband and throw two at the same time. They both land, one directly across from the other in the wood. The tension leaves my shoulders as I continue.

And I'm so involved in it that I don't notice someone else's eyes on me.

It's Nygma. Edward.

I turn. His hair had been cut to be short on the sides and longer in the front a few days ago, replacing what had previously looked like a mop on his head from lack of haircuts at Arkham. His outfit had been changed too- a dark green, almost black suit that sure as hell wouldn't suit anyone else. I almost grimace at the thought of me in green. With my hair I'd look like a deranged leprechaun.

"What do you want?" I ask, going to pull the knives out of the wood. Impolite? Yeah. Tell me what he's done to earn my respect, and by association, politeness.

"Why are you so mad at me?" he asks.

I walk back, putting one knife into my boot and twirling the other between my fingers. I'm close enough to see the color of his eyes, our chests practically pressed together. I raise the knife slowly, giving him the opportunity to move, but he doesn't. I press it lightly into his throat, grinning widely up at him. I hate that he's just taller than me.

"Why I'm mad at you, huh?" I hum, voice low. I press the blade down just a little harder. "Tell me. Do you remember..." I pretend to think. "Who was the first person you killed?" I honestly don't care. I just want to have him struggle before I lose it and slit his throat where he stands.

"Tom Dougherty." he says, voice flat.

"Hm," I draw out the syllable, looking at the knife. I don't know the name and I don't are.

"And how did you kill him?" I say.

"I stabbed him."

"And why?"