HC- Living Spaces

It is often said that living spaces reflect and complement the personalities of their owners. For Oswald Cobblepot, this rings particularly through.  His manor would not look out of place in the setting of a Gothic Victorian-esque novel, with long overgrown ivy winding down it’s cobblestone walls, forbidding metal spired gates to deter intruders, guards patrolling in rotation, perpetually half drawn blinds to obscure both light and silhouette (making it hard for snipers to get a good target). 

Opulent hallways flicker under yellowed lighting, casting a sickly glow on pallid complexion and creating shadows at every turn in corridors that appear to stretch on endlessly. Intricately detailed furniture in oak, velvet, comfortable furs to cushion space left by the ghosts of countless portraits hung in remembrance. Such grandiosity. But at what cost? 

The Iceberg Lounge, crafted deliberately with glossy ceilings (reflecting secret entrances: there will be no secrets kept from the Penguin’s watchful eyes), reinforced polished glass (tempered to perfection for shootouts), glitzy chandeliers, seasonally rotated/replaced artwork, expansive alcohol selection and strategically placed furniture (excellent makeshift weapons) to appeal to the crowd hungering for bigger. For better.

Encased in a fortress of Ice. Existing in Darkness. These things are so very different for an existence like Oswald Cobblepot.

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