Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

All Hail the Queen

   I follow Oswald up several flights of stairs in a dark building to his apartment. The stairs moan with each step, as if the floorboards are about to give out right under us,

“Mother should be home. You’ll love her, she’s wonderful.” he tells me as we ascend the final flight.

He reaches into the pockets of his suit and unlocks the door, letting it slowly creak open. The door opens to a small apartment, decorated in a Victorian fashion. Lace coverings envelope the tables, chairs, and practically everything else. There’s a general antiquated feel to the furniture, as if all of the furnishings are actually from the Victorian era.

“Mother, I’m home!” he calls out.

One of the bedroom doors open, and a ghostly older woman appears in the doorway, “Ozzy, you’re home ear-” her expression widens as she notices me.

While not a mother myself, I can imagine what would go through a mother’s mind when her son comes homes with a woman in a dirty, slinky dress.

“Who’s she?” she asks accusingly.

“Mother, this is Trixie, she saved my from...from some muggers. But she got her dress soaked in the process, and I offered to help her clean it up.” he explains, although at least from my perspective, he’s a terrible liar.

“Oh…” she realizes, “Well...I’ve been meaning to do a load anyway. I’ll start up the washer. In the meantime, Oswald, fetch her one of my old dresses.”

As she leaves the room, I smirk at Oswald, “Did she call you Ozzy?”

He smiles bashfully, “It’s...her nickname for me.” he tries to conceal his blushing by turning away, “I’ll...I’ll get you that dress.”

He shuffles off into her room, leaving me alone in the doorway. I close the door and take a seat on the well-used couch that serves as the centerpiece of the small living room. No television, or even a radio. There’s a fireplace opposite the couch, and right in front of my feet is a faded mahogany coffee table, with a rather expensive china tea set set out.

“I’m not sure if this’ll fit you but, uh, you can try it on in my room.” he says, carefully handing me a neatly folded bundle.

His fingers graze my hand as he hands me the clothes. I swear he’s doing that on purpose. I look up at him, and all he gives is an innocent smile.

Taking the clothes, I head into the other bedroom door he gestures to. Opening the door, I see a simple bedroom filled to the brim with stacks of old leather bound books. A double bed sits at the center against the back wall, and intricate sketches of birds hang from the walls.

I set the dress on the bed and unfold it, it’s a simple baby blue dress, with a curved collar and two buttons down the breast. I throw off the dress Amanda gave me and slip into the new one. It’s form fitting around the waist, but it’s definitely classier than eye-catching pieces that lacks an adequate amount of fabric.

“Are you dressed?” Oswald asks, peeking in through the door. He sees that I am changed, and he spends a couple of seconds examining me, his eyes wandering.

“Well, what do you think?” I ask, might as well ask his opinion if he’s going to look at me like that.

“Be-beautiful...I, I mean, very nice, very, very...nice.”

I smile, “Thanks.”

I pick up my dirty dress and carry it to the small side room which serves as the laundry room. Mrs. Cobblepot takes my dress along with a heap of dulled clothes and throws it into the washer,