"Oh, you don't have to give me anything." What? What was it that he wanted to give him? Edward had to know. Had there been any clues? Anything that would help him figure out just what he was thinking? Edward backtracked through all their conversations, his smile a little vague, but it deepened when he realised that Oswald wasn't moving his hand. That seemed like an important step. "I have never really had a true friend. I thought I did, but I know better now. You are my first."
"I thought I had a friend once too. I think it was all in my head." Jim Gordon, he should have been a good friend to him, he did absolutely everything he could for that man, he tried his best for him every time and whenever he needed him, he made distance, he struck out, he lashed out. He wasn't an idiot. He knew it wasn't what he thought it was. He thought back and no, he had never had friends, he had always been alone. And then there was Edward. He drew his hand back and picked up his controller again. "You're my first too." With a smile, he turned the game back on and continued to gun people down, not telling Edward what he planned to give him. He was a smart boy, maybe he'd work it out.
"I don't know how much was in my head, but ultimately I just think..." He wasn't sure how to really put it, so finally he simply shrugged. "I've never been close to someone I had that much in common with before. I suppose I've never been this in touch with my inner self before either, if you know what I mean. Ever since I started down this path..." He inhaled slowly, his smile growing. "It's been exhilarating. I've never felt in control before. Never felt confident. When did you first, you know. Feel that?"
"When I was in high school, there was this boy who always used to tease me and once he was kicking my ass pretty hard after gym class. I grabbed a baseball bat off the floor and I hit him. It was a fluke. The bat was heavy, I was scrawny but the combination made me strong. And I kept going, again and again and again. No one ever came after me for it but after the fear and the guilt let go, I felt so liberated. I felt powerful. I hurt someone and I got away with it." Oswald smirked excitedly as he switched his weapons to a bat and proceeded to smash at anyone who got in his way, clearly very entertained by the mayhem.
"I spent my whole life trying to chase that feeling. I wanted to be something, to be powerful and untouchable. I never thought I'd have it again, I never got any stronger but I got a lot smarter. Not your kind of smart, just good at playing with people. I couldn't fight them but I could get them to fight each other. That made me feel amazing." He wasn't a genius but he was good at messing around with people and he'd gotten very good at taking a punch to the face.
"I've never been that smart about people. I never got close enough to them." Perhaps if he'd been able to study them earlier, he'd have spent less time being so pathetically clumsy. But he was getting better now, learning social cues and taking note. He knew he would always be seen as weird, but he was better at making that work for him now. As for Oswald? There wasn't really any need to hold back with him. "The way you play with people, it's fascinating. I have studied your case history and it's truly remarkable. You have pulled yourself up before. You will do it again. Rising from the ashes."
"I don't care any more. About being king of Gotham. That's on the back burner, I can play that game some other time. I just want Galavan." He wanted to make him hurt, that was all he wanted right now. A slow painful death for Galavan, Butch and Tabitha. He was going to make them all pay. "Right now, it's the simple things I want. I'm sure you can appreciate that. Murder, bloodshed, people screaming. That's all I need."
"Oh, I can. I'm just talking about a renaissance, after you've dealt with him. And I know you will." Wouldn't that be beautiful? He wished dearly that he could be there, but knew that it probably wouldn't be possible. The thought alone was quite stimulating, in all honesty. "I wish you nothing more than the closure of torturing your enemy to death, my friend."
"You really are a dear friend, Edward." As he turned to tell Edward that, the cops blew him up with a rocket launcher and Oswald turned back with a baffled frown. Huh. Well. That was fun while it lasted. He held out the controller to Edward and smiled sheepishly. "Mind showing me how this game is really played. You seem very talented, I want to see your skills." He enjoyed this game, he liked watching it too. Shockingly.
"It has nothing to do with talent, I assure you. Merely practice." That said he took the controller over with a little bow and minutes later he was shooting people, racing in a car and cursing a blue streak whenever things didn't get perfectly and sometimes when they did. His smile was wide - perhaps a bit too wide - and he leaned forward for a better look of the screen. It wasn't anything like the real thing, but it was the closest he could get.
He had to hit pause when he noticed the smell of food, setting the controller down. "Dinner's ready." How domestic. "I am so very glad I get to share all these simple pleasures with you, friend."
"You're very good at this, I have to say. You're spree is beautiful." He loved watching Edward kill people, real or not, it was oddly exciting. Like having a student who was just flourishing beautifully. He slowly hauled himself to his feet the best he could, his leg was a little wobbly as he took his first steps towards the kitchen, helping him to get out plates and assisting where he could. Oswald wasn't very good at the domestic life but he knew how to have manners and how to be a good guest. His mother had taught him well.
It was oddly idyllic, to sit down at the table with someone and share a meal. He had gotten used to it with Oswald now, but before then? Miss Kringle had really been the first time he'd ever done that. His childhood and the years that followed had never lent themselves to such endeavours. "I can show you how to set up the game, so you can play by yourself tomorrow, if you like. I also have other games. I'm afraid to admit that I'm something of an avid gamer."
"I would very much like that, yes. I don't often do much these days. It'd be nice to have a hobby." Or something to do so he could murder the innocent and take his mind off everything. He rather liked this idea. "So it's settled! Tonight you will teach me how to use that box thing to play games like you do and maybe we can kill some hookers together before we sleep." Hookers in the game, of course. Although, it was hard to say where things could end up in Gotham. "In the bed, of course. Both of us." There was no way Edward was sleeping on that stupid tiny couch.
"I'll show you all there is to it then. It's really not complicated, teenagers all over the world are the target audience here." Hence it really wasn't hard to figure out how it worked.
Wait. In the bed, both of them? Edward glanced toward the bed and then back at Oswald, rather unsure what to say to that. "If you insist, my friend. I do like stretching my legs out."
"I don't mind it, it's fun." But nothing he was taking seriously here, not really. He liked his current interests and he didn't think he could play this seriously but it was nice to beat a hooker with a baseball bat or shoot a cop to death. If he had to play one of the more complicated games Edward played, he'd end up with a headache.
He looked at Edward and took in his surprise, smiling with vague amusement. Oh Edward. "If you sleep on the couch again, your back is going to be a mess. I don't mind sharing and it's plenty big. It seems wrong to put you out, friend."
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"I spent my whole life trying to chase that feeling. I wanted to be something, to be powerful and untouchable. I never thought I'd have it again, I never got any stronger but I got a lot smarter. Not your kind of smart, just good at playing with people. I couldn't fight them but I could get them to fight each other. That made me feel amazing." He wasn't a genius but he was good at messing around with people and he'd gotten very good at taking a punch to the face.
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He had to hit pause when he noticed the smell of food, setting the controller down. "Dinner's ready." How domestic. "I am so very glad I get to share all these simple pleasures with you, friend."
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Wait. In the bed, both of them? Edward glanced toward the bed and then back at Oswald, rather unsure what to say to that. "If you insist, my friend. I do like stretching my legs out."
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He looked at Edward and took in his surprise, smiling with vague amusement. Oh Edward. "If you sleep on the couch again, your back is going to be a mess. I don't mind sharing and it's plenty big. It seems wrong to put you out, friend."