Novella is the very definition of a nobody that wants to be a somebody in a world of everybody's. At eighteen she was accepted as an intern at the Gotham City Police Department. Jim Gordon was her hero, the man that she looked up to and also her uncle. Which is how she got the internship with Kristen Kringle. All she does is file paperwork and get coffees, its not exciting, but its experience and she was glad for it. The job wasn't too hard, with the only odd happenings being the forensic scientist Mr. Nygma's pop ins. Kristen often got annoyed with the poor man, but to Novella he was an adorably awkward man with a crush. She could relate to an extent.
Today was one of those perfectly ordinary days. Gotham had a slight chill due to the cloudy skies, despite being summer, and Novella could smell the rain in the air. Sometimes, she felt as though the whole world was moving as she stood on the sidewalk waiting for her bus. She thought that if you stood still enough you could feel the Earth rotate on it's axis, but they always called her a dreamer. Maybe that was why she had dyed her hair the color she associated with the galaxy; a brilliant lilac color that perfectly matched her personality.
"Miss, you need to get on the bus," the driver said from his perch to the spacey girl. Everywhere she went she got looks. However quiet or ordinary she seemed, people always stared at her. Maybe it was the hair, or maybe it was the presence she brought with her. She was intimidating, but in the soft way, the kind of way that shows how strong she is, but that she wouldn't hurt unless provoked. She was the exact definition of an oxymoron, a walking contradiction.
"Of course. Thank you Mr. Johnsie." She stepped up the two steps not aware that Mr. Johnsie watched her the whole way back. It wasn't everyday that someone bothered to learn their bus driver's name, especially in this city. Novella was odd to say the least, but in that brilliant way that only some could pull off.
She found her seat and pulled out her headphones. Most would expect a girl like her to listen to something soft, but she was addicted to anything with a beat. If the rhythm didn't make her move or the lyrics didn't speak, she didn't bother. So, that was how she spent the ride to the GCPD, lightly bobbing her head to the music, and when she walked off she took that presence right into her workplace. The presence that made everyone wonder what was in this girl's head and what do I have to do to find out?
-
Victor Zsasz, an empty shell to say the least. The textbook definition of a sociopath. A gun for hire. There are dozens of terms for what he does, what he is, but that doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that he is the best at what he does. A typical day would be a text or call from his boss with specific instructions for what he was required to do. If he chose to take the job -and he always did- then he was given a generous sum of money upon completion.
This was his typical day. A text from Carmine Falcone was what he woke up to. The job was simple; bring in Jim Gordon alive. It wasn't hard and he already had his plan formed. Go to the GCPD, nicely ask for Gordon to come with him, and if things got ugly then all the better. Everyone knew Victor, he was the most feared man in Gotham. A rich boy turned assassin wasn't what most would expect, but this was Gotham and anything is possible.
He sent word to his girls to meet him at the police department and be ready for anything. The Zsaszettes as he called them, where brilliant assassins, but he wouldn't exactly call them friends. Victor didn't do friends, to him a friend meant attachment and attachment meant weakness. He didn't do weakness. At least he thought he didn't.
-
"Hi Kristen!" The purple haired teen called to her supervisor, trying to find the woman through piles of old case work. "Did the files eat you while I was gone?"
"Very funny Nove. I know it's a mess, but it's organized to an extent." The strawberry blonde appeared from behind an especially tall stack. "Now, if you'd please help me."
"Of course boss," Novella laughed at the eye roll she received and the two went on, oblivious to the ruckus in the precinct.
-
Victor had just finished his speech and had gotten rid of the entirety of the department before Jim could even blink. When they were finally alone Jim began shooting forcing Victor to respond. He, along with his two girls, shot at Jim while jumping around the furniture. At some point Victor noticed one of his bullets had grazed Jim's side, allowing him to track the man through the parking garage. The entire group was so caught up in their shoot out that nobody noticed the lilac blur that hid just out of sight, observing the entire thing.
-
She saw the ruthlessness of Victor as he played with Jim, shooting him a second time before he was rescued. Then she saw probably the most disturbing thing she'd ever witnessed. A female cop had been shot by the two women in black and the pale faced man came up and shot her point blank. It wasn't that that put fear in her, it was the razor that he ran over his skin while mumbling, "twenty eight."
She gasped, loudly enough to catch the attention of the three killers. She had expected to be killed on the spot, but the man just stared in curiosity.
"What do we have here?" The man questioned in an obviously rhetorical way. "A little purple princess." The man laughed a bit, expecting Novella to quake with fear, but that wasn't in her nature.
"If you're going to kill me get on with it. Otherwise, I've got places to be." She stood up from her crouched position with confidence. Her confidence was what saved her life, whether she knew it or not.
"Aren't you a brave one." The man stalked closer to her, almost close enough for her to smell the scent of death that followed him around, "Who are you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know. I believe I won't be getting killed today, so I hope to never see you again. Goodbye killer." She waved to him before walking out of the garage and straight to her home.
-
"I want her." Victor had made up his mind the second she had walked past him. The pure nerve of the girl with lilac hair astonished him, and it took a lot to amaze him, but somehow that girl had managed to do so without trying.
"Mr. Zsasz. with all my respect, how do you plan on getting her?" One of the Zsaszettes attempted to reason with him, "I mean we don't even have her name."
He thought for a moment before figuring a solution. She had come from the precinct so she must work there, meaning Falcone would have her record.
"Don Falcone will have her file." He turned on his heel making his way to the getaway car that awaited him and his associates.
"I want her, and I always get what I want." He called over his shoulder before whispering to himself, "ready or not Princess here I come."
DU LIEST GERADE
No One Can Know || Victor Zsasz
Fanfiction"No one can know, don't you know? No one can know what she is to him, because that's a weakness, and he doesn't do weakness." Victor Zsasz. The very definition of detached. He doesn't do emotion, he doesn't do feelings, or so he thought. Novella Ow...
