Owner	Pose
Oswald Cobblepot	It's ten PM at the Iceberg Lounge in Gotham City, and the festivities are just past their peak for the night. The frivolous ones have already left for the night, with their lads and ladies on their arms, having visited merely to be seen, and to see the various assorted glitterati of Gotham. Now, bankers and brawler alike share cocktails at the bar, while Mafiaso and their kin chat between Familia at the tables. In the center of the Lounge, on the dance floor, the aristocrats dance with daughters of the tabloid, and on stage, an old violinist plays a dirge for the sunken ships from the centuries, out past China Basin's harbor. There's a soft murmur to the place, as shrimp cocktail and sangria is consumed, waiters and waitresses moving amid the crowd as a trio of bartenders doles out the liquor. In the back of the club, near the door in the alley behind the Lounge kept for clandestine visitors, there's a billiards room. Penguin, sans his jacket, is playing pool with a major union leader, the pair of them chatting about business. A man with black suspenders and a visible, holstered Desert Eagle stands in the corner, some six foot five and made of bulky muscle and slabs of fat, sits in the corner, watching. Penguin is presently watching the union leader line up his shot, down at least three balls, two of those points unnecessary. Penguin is a graceful loser with the unions, especially their bosses, who are more about demonstrating the importance of poise and grace at trivial pursuits, than about the actual competition itself. "So, Hank, you say that the jewelry workers are getting shafted because of the new rule on imports of gold?" Penguin idly spins his chalk over the tip of his stick, as a quiet click signals the union boss' shot. The cue ball turns astray, nearly scratching, with Penguin looking aside politely. He thought it would happen, the boss got greedy and didn't set up a positioning shot. He went for an impossible score instead. "I can see less expensive settings messing with their hours with demand, and stone pricing." Penguin walks around the table as the union boss stands up, looking oddly at the table. Penguin says nothing, adjusting his monocle as he prepares his next position.
Selene	Selene had stepped into the club when it was growing quieter in the night, so it would seem... She let her pale blue eyes look around at the interior and toward the source of the music... toward where the drinks were being served. This is where she headed in-fact, to the bar. Selene approached it and asked about the head bird himself, hoping to find an audience with him tonight... Selene had called ahead even, to make sure that there'd be a better chance at least to meet with him, though she'd kind of recieved a brush-off over the phone which was mildly frustrating, but the woman kept her cool over it. When told where to find him, the pool hall, Selene made her way through the club toward the passageway inside of it and she graced its doorway and paused, allowing her pale eyes to scan over the area... those within it playing billiards... Selene was dressed in her attire of slim-fitting black lather that hugged her body quite confidently. She had a black leather trenchcoat on over the rest of her gear and there were visible weapons inside her jacket to any well-trained-security guard. Selene stepped forward, calm and smooth, into the room, eyes on the man hismelf. "Mister Cobblepot." She said, her voice husky and low... but calm and enticing. "Might I have a moment with you?"
Oswald Cobblepot	Penguin turns his attention to Selene as she stands at the entrance to the billiard room, just past the threshold. "Welcome to America," he says with a toothy grin, placing his pool cue down. He lets his British accent come out more, used to hiding it with a trick passed down in his family for centuries. "It's always a pleasure for a Cobblepot to meet a Death Dealer," he says as he turns about, picking his jacket up off the coat rack. He looks over at the union boss. "Hank, talk to Lorenzo, the guy with the nick on his left ear, out in the club. He'll get you in touch with Chuckie Solomon, he runs a rules commission for the Metropolis commodity exchange. I'm sure you'll be able to find a few sympathetic ears if you get some of the cutters to push their wards towards whatever cockamamie politician Luthor wants." He slides his jacket on, tugging the open sides and wiggling into it. Penguin walks around Selene and motions for her to follow with his leather gloved hand. "Come now, Madamoiselle, this tradition we must perform in the proper setting." He walks down the hall, and leans into the kitchen. "Two king's banes," he shouts, before he looks at Selene with a smile. It's a reference to a traditional drink from Britain, that British secret society men drink with vampires. A Bloody Mary with three jumbo shrimp around the brim. "A bird never forgets where the fish are, eh?" He opens the sealed door to the smoking room, and steps inside. He shuffles around to a set of plush upholstered chairs, and sits down in one, the other at a hundred degree angle from him, with a fine antique oak table between the two. A waiter brings in the drinks, setting them on the table, then leaves, closing the door. "The room is sound proof, and odor proof."
Selene	Selene listened to the conversation being wrapped up in the billiards hall and otherwise just remained motionless and quiet until the two were finished and the Penguin gave her his full attention. "Thank you, Mister Cobblepot." She replied to him then, her own voice was laced with quite a lot of British-accent in there as well though... it was more of a London-traditional flavor and it was influenced by other accents as well, suggesting she'd done a lot of traveling in her lifetime. Selene would nod to him and offer a faint smile when he spoke of her title as a Death Dealer. "You are very well reserached, if I might say so, sir." She told him, following him when he walked and accepting the drink when he acquired them for them both. She lifted the drink up to smell at it at first, and then would sip from it politely while they entered the smoking lounge. Selene's pale eyes looked about the interior of the room as he described it. "Its very lovely." She told him, having seen many rooms like this before in her many many years, but she wanted to make sure to pay her host a great deal of respect, since he had services she needed. Selene put her eyes back upon him. "And thank you for seeing me on this matter... Its, quite important to my family, that we finalize this deatl. As I'm sure you know."
Oswald Cobblepot	"You pick up a lot of odd lore in my profession," Penguin says, taking a long sip of his tomato juice and vodka cocktail, picking up the glass with his gloved right hand. "Especially when your family has done it since the Crusades." He tips his glass up with a lift indicating a mock toast. "God Save the Queen." He breathes a heavy breath, his heavy belly and the strength behind it apparent as it stretches his white starched shirt, before he plucks a shrimp off the side of the glass with his left hand and dips it into the spicy beverage. "I always have time for an interesting piece of merchandise, whether it be a diamond for a lady or a deal with a devil. Sometimes, when you dance, the difference isn't clear to an observer." He lifts the shrimp carefully, holding the dripping shellfish over the glass, before he quickly places it into his mouth and bites beneath the tail, narrowly avoiding a stain. He's quite more dextrous than he seems. He places the remaining tail on the table before him with a low lean as he chews patiently, the drink and expensive treat part of the ritual. He doesn't seem like he's paying attention to her gestures, but she is. That's the purpose of his end of the deal. She's formal, meaning she is in good weather on this ship. And she is making sure he knows this is important, meaning this is a cherry pick. "You need citizenship papers? For how many of your blood, in what income bracket, and from what country of origin displayed on your citizenship papers? Secondary factors are diffusion of locales immigrating inward, any potential warrants out for aliases, and locations relevant to connections." He licks his lips for a moment, his addictive personality coming out at the thought of this deal, with the vodka touching his mind, the purpose of the ritual from her end. She can see he's greedy, without a necessary lever of determination that would endanger him mortally. "I do hope that this piece of minor legwork won't be the end of our connections. The Death Dealers are quite valuable as friends, and my outfit is quite valuable as a source of information."
Selene	Selene didn't partake in any shrimp herself, but she did sip from the drink a little more here and there. She remained standing where she was, a very tall woman only made taller by her heeled boots, she was easily nearing somewhere close to 6 feet in height. Selene watched the rather curious man and listened to him closely, she seemed intrigued by him... but then again he had a lot of power in this region and that was something she certainly admired even if she wasn't terribly certain about the rest of him yet. "You're not giving me any diamonds, so I'll assume that you're referring to me as the Devil." She said then, showing a lightly amused grin across her pale lips. A moment later and her non-glass-holding hand dipped into her coat and she pulled out a dark red paper folder. She approached him and offered it to him. "Hungary is our place of origin... Within this you'll find the names and information needed on all of our family's members. There are twenty of us in totality who need this arrangement, though we may have more coming should... things not go as well as we hope they will. We have no warrants for our arrests, we generally all live off the grid, as it were." Selene lifted her glass up for another drink but paused with it at her lips and spoke again. "High wealth bracket." She said quietly, and then took her sip.
Oswald Cobblepot	Penguin accepts the envelope with his leather gloved hand, and sets it down on the table, beside the shrimp tail. He notices the lack of consumption of the shrimp. This one is a leader. Shrimp is the food of the nouveau rich. And the mortally selfish. "Hungary, hm?" Penguin leans back in his chair, a faint creak of leather as he relaxes and thinks, sipping his spicy potent potable. "Don't make any presumptions as to how many devils there are in this room, dearest creature of darkness." Oswald takes a slow, long drink through his straw of his beverage, preferring the alcohol to hit him fast. "For a high wealth bracket, that will require a special form of payment. Prefer to play a bit of French chess? The payment, and the necessary movement to place you in this area as citizens, shall be the same." Oswald leans forward and rises from his chair, the Bloody Mary jostling a bit inside the tall flute glass and coming nary an inch to spilling, only to be denied by his fine handiwork that seems to be accidental safety. "The Balkans are a prime area of industrial scientific development. You will be placed as the philanthropic branch of these industrial interests. This is a socialite position, it only requires that you represent social causes from your home country. And, as Death Dealers, I believe it will give you ample time to study the various social tributaries of the area, as socialites. Eventually, I will find the proper company that is interested in moving into this region as a money-laundering pipeline to Turkey and Russia. At this point, you will be relieved of your cover duty."
Selene	Selene showed a smile at the part about the Devils in the room but she didn't comemnt on it and just let it move on into the past... She'd listen to the rest while taking a moment to let her eyes wander around the room again while he spoke, listening closely but also observing the room itself. She looked back at him when he spoke of socialite duties that might require others to come to her family's home, it seemed like it was something that caused a 'thought' inside of her head but after a moment she simply would dip her slim and pointed chin into a little nod of understanding. "That all sounds perfectly acceptable and quite alright. We have a home picked out already, located in Westchester." Selene would nod toward that red envelope again. "The information on it is also inside." She told him again. Her own tall glass was lifted up again for another sip while she continued to remain standing and took a step to her right, to glance around the room again some. "You know that we're Vampires then?" She asked him, her eyes rising to a painting hanging on the wall. "You're okay with this?" She asked, those penetrating pale blues now going to him again.
Oswald Cobblepot	"I am aware of the Death Dealers' nature, yes," Penguin says as he moves to stand beside Selene, viewing the painting as she looks at him. "There are various types of vampirism, I am aware, and your type, I find useful. I am ultimately a neutral arbiter of affairs in this country, for overseas interests, and while the Turks and Russians would find the offer distasteful, I feel I can offer them a guarantee of safety to a degree. Hence, why you will be relieved of your end of the bargain, after I find a clientele firm overseas. Merely view it as a primer on the culture of the United States." He picks up another shrimp, a bit vexed at the lack of red sauce to dip it in, instead rubbing it around the inner circle of the glass. "There are many mathematical equations, and there are different ways to deploy them. You are a particular equation that fits into a set of many variations, for different or similar purposes, that may interact with other equations. I am placing your equation into a strategy that depends on context, that I will then remove from the table once the rest of the matrix around it no longer needs its place as a keystone. And then, I'll have a free standing mathematical architecture, and you will be free to solve yourself within your own mathematical constraints." Penguin looks to Selene with a smile. "That's the beauty of doing business in a country as free as America." He turns his back on her and bites his shrimp into his mouth, rolling it on the right side of his mouth. He walks over to the back of the room, placing the glass down on a table lining the back. "I will begin arrangements immediately. You may depart at your leisure. If you ever wish to come after hours, there is a door in the back alley, merely identify yourself, you will be welcome." He looks over his shoulder. "And watch out for the superhuman agenda. Your abilities are far from unique. Even those without them often have some sort of trained skill." He turns about, a fine cigar in his hand, lighting it with his brass machined lighter, six stars on the outer side facing Selene, an eye inside. "Westchester is a fine area. If you wish to grace halls finer than mine, merely make it so in your mind, and those with broader wings than mine will alight upon your stoop."
Selene	Selene listened to this from him and she'd turn to offer him the remainder of her unfinished drink witht he shrimp still present on its rim. "I can tell that we've found the right man then, Mister Cobblepot." She told him in her sultry voice. "I'll have the payment sent through the proper channels as you've requested and we'll... consider this to be a mutually beneficial arrangement, I believe." With that said, the Death Dealer would turn to begin to leave, her eyes once again gracing around the other side of the room that she hadn't looked over yet. She spared a moment's look back at him then. "Perhaps I'll stop by again. This seems like a nice place to unwind." A small smile was given then to Cobblepot and then the woman in black would start back for the door that he'd let them in through, her longcoat gently swaying around her legs as she went to leave.
Oswald Cobblepot	"All secrets can be seen by a jeweler, and stolen by a gem thief," Penguin replies, taking the glass. He doesn't touch the shrimp or the rim where her mouth was, knowing she's a vampire, but he holds it in a neutral position to avoid being rude. "Good day, Miss Selene. Remember, a tree that never falls is not one that is tall, but rather one that is on a slope. Beware the works of a man with a saw." He puffs on his cigar, shutting the door behind Selene. He turns about and sets the glass down, and then moves to a bookshelf. He turns a knob of an owl, and opens a secret compartment, with a computer display and landline present.