Penguin Oswald Cobblepot Novels & Stories

He stopped to take a breath and added, “There has been reports on something strange. Most said it's the rogues growing more powerful and had somehow placed their hands on some…magic.” Memories of earlier this night flashed through my mind. The thing of nightmares that had claws twice the size of a regular wolven. I stiffened as I remaining silent, waiting for him to continue. To say something about my embers and how I shan't let anyone know that I possessed such power. “That will be all.” He kicked off where he stood and went to the bottle of whiskey again. I twirled from my position to walk out of Father's office, “Oh and Oliver.” He called out.

I snarled again. The young wolf looked as though he may throw up. “I, I am Cobalt. I am from the Moon Eclipse pack. Please, please don’t hurt me.” I could tell he was young. Maybe sixteen if I had to guess. I shifted into my human form. He stayed still as he lay on his back on the ground. “Shift,” I command him. He looks down as his human form takes control. He was tall and kind of skinny. He looked worried as though I may kill him at any point. “Stand up,” I ordered trying not to scare him too much.

CHAPTER 3 13 months ago Oswald scanned the narrow street carefully, making sure to see no one had been on his tail. He pulled the cloak closer to himself as he trotted down an alleyway lined with algae. He watched children play with 'snowballs' and wrestle themselves in their wolf form. He watched a woman tendering to the apple tree just outside her house. He was yanked off the alleyway almost immediately, and he found himself inside a dark room, and his supposed captor closing the door quickly.

The feared ancestor of thousands of shadow organizations. Chloe pressed the accept button. The holographic screen projected the marble figure of an old, dignified man sitting in his wheelchair. Oswald's eyes were sharp as a hawk's, although the wrinkles of old age had covered half of his glory. His long white hair was neatly styled. Even though he was paralyzed, his pressure could suffocate an entire room if he wanted to. "My beloved grandson," Oswald's voice was hoarse and deep, like thunder echoing from inside a dark cave. "I heard that last night you burned down a fifth of the east pier just because that street dog from the North tried to steal your silver toy."

Georgia had gone very still with the specific rapt attention of a child who has just been handed something precious. "Keep going," she said. So he had. Gerald, it turned out, was secretly the bravest penguin in the Arctic, tasked with a nightly mission to fly across the sky and check on children who might be scared of the dark. He had a rival — a grumpy owl named Bartholomew who didn't believe penguins should fly at all — and a best friend, a walrus named Pearl, who helped him navigate using the stars. Each night added a new chapter. Gerald rescued a lost baby seal. Gerald outsmarted Bartholomew in a contest of courage. Gerald discovered that Pearl the walrus was afraid of thunderstorms and

But Lillian nailed it! . . . . . In another part of the city of New York: Oswald the Stranger was marching with not a care in the world up the main street. He did not care at all about the destruction and chaos happening nearby. A throng of blue faced Succubinos rushed up towards him. He casually just zapped them off his path with a blast of energy as if they were just mere flies. And he continued on his way, he was going towards a pub to meet an old acquaintance who had something for him. Or rather something that belonged to him.