Edward Nigma | The Riddler (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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mayfield_rpg2012-01-26 08:35 pm
questionauthority) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-01-26 08:35 pm
Entry tags:
Riddle 038: Banking on a Breakdown
[PHONE – UNFILTERED]
Well, well. You’ve got quite a lot to answer for, haven’t you, Mayfield? But what?!
What is it that you have to answer?
But to answer, you have to ask?
And to ask you have to speak?
And to speak, you have to know
The answer…!
[Should he speak any faster, Edward Nigma might start tripping over his own tongue-twisters. His voice is shaking, and from the sound of it? The way he’s fumbling with the phone in his hands makes it clear that he’s shaking too. He sounds exhausted, both physically and mentally. Enraged. Anguished. Wounded. Definitely unstable.]
What? What’s that, Mister Mayor? You haven’t got an answer for this? For these---these old wounds? Is death your final answer for all of us?
[He laughs. It’s a deranged, unhinged sound, furious and terrifying yet slightly pathetic at the same time.]
Guess again. You and your incompetent Chief of Police, and your---your---whoever the hell that woman on the phone with you was. Guess again.
Riddle me this, morons. "What… is the poorest bank in the world?" Hmm? [A beat.] I’ll give you a hint: It’s not a riverbank.
Still no answer? Pity. Because if... If I don’t have an answer from you by midnight, if you’re stupid enough not to have that damned machine of yours fixed by the end of the day and if you don’t bring her back---[Steady, Edward. Steady.]---and put everything back to the way it was before… then you’ll learn just how dangerous I can truly be. You will learn that I am not to be underestimated any longer. And by the end of the night, you'll get the message. You'll get it through that thick head of yours, even if I have to---even if I have to break it apart myself. You will know, Mister Mayor… that the Riddler… is better than you.
Don’t keep me waiting.
[ACTION - 726 ANDERSON LANE - AFTERNOON
Hearing how awful the Riddler is on the phone is one thing. Seeing how awful he's becoming is another thing entirely. Between Ema's death yesterday and his phone call today? He's gotten a hell of a lot worse. There are two distinctive wounds on his face---one on his temple, the other dead center on his forehead---and if you look carefully enough you can see the beginnings of what appears to be a very small dent growing in the back of his head.
After his little address to the town, there are a few things Eddie's got to try and take care of.
He's in the bathroom at one point, unraveling a roll of bandages and wrapping it around his head just above his eyebrows before shielding his bandaged skull beneath his hat.
He's in the bedroom for another moment, emerging in a tight green bodysuit littered with question marks with a heavy green trenchcoat resting over his broad shoulders.
He's in his study soon after that, filing frantically through index cards with handwritten instructions.
And finally, he's in the garage, loading up the trunk of the Riddler-Mobile and preparing himself for a long overdue business trip to...
ACTION - MAYFIELD BANK - EARLY EVENING
Because what better a way to get the Mayor's attention than a good ol' fashioned bank job? The frightened drones are loading up massive tote bags with cash, but the money's immaterial. Hostages are Edward's currency right now, drones in particular, and with enough hostages? The Mayor's bound to budge. He's bound to fix everything, right? ...right?]
What's. Taking. So. Long? [He paces around the bank in frustration, a loaded machine pistol hanging loosely from his fingers.] Where is he? Where? Where?
[Are you one of the Riddler's fellow partners-in-crime? A hostage who got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or are you one of those noble do-gooders, here to try and save the day? Whoever you are, it's getting easier to tell that Eddie's condition is continuing in a steady decline. He's jumpy. He's twitchy. And his mind, what should be his most powerful weapon, is turning against him. What will you do?]
((OOC: The bank heist will come to an end eventually, but it will be atstrike_you_out's hands. Please bear that in mind before responding! Thank you!))
Well, well. You’ve got quite a lot to answer for, haven’t you, Mayfield? But what?!
What is it that you have to answer?
But to answer, you have to ask?
And to ask you have to speak?
And to speak, you have to know
The answer…!
[Should he speak any faster, Edward Nigma might start tripping over his own tongue-twisters. His voice is shaking, and from the sound of it? The way he’s fumbling with the phone in his hands makes it clear that he’s shaking too. He sounds exhausted, both physically and mentally. Enraged. Anguished. Wounded. Definitely unstable.]
What? What’s that, Mister Mayor? You haven’t got an answer for this? For these---these old wounds? Is death your final answer for all of us?
[He laughs. It’s a deranged, unhinged sound, furious and terrifying yet slightly pathetic at the same time.]
Guess again. You and your incompetent Chief of Police, and your---your---whoever the hell that woman on the phone with you was. Guess again.
Riddle me this, morons. "What… is the poorest bank in the world?" Hmm? [A beat.] I’ll give you a hint: It’s not a riverbank.
Still no answer? Pity. Because if... If I don’t have an answer from you by midnight, if you’re stupid enough not to have that damned machine of yours fixed by the end of the day and if you don’t bring her back---[Steady, Edward. Steady.]---and put everything back to the way it was before… then you’ll learn just how dangerous I can truly be. You will learn that I am not to be underestimated any longer. And by the end of the night, you'll get the message. You'll get it through that thick head of yours, even if I have to---even if I have to break it apart myself. You will know, Mister Mayor… that the Riddler… is better than you.
Don’t keep me waiting.
[ACTION - 726 ANDERSON LANE - AFTERNOON
Hearing how awful the Riddler is on the phone is one thing. Seeing how awful he's becoming is another thing entirely. Between Ema's death yesterday and his phone call today? He's gotten a hell of a lot worse. There are two distinctive wounds on his face---one on his temple, the other dead center on his forehead---and if you look carefully enough you can see the beginnings of what appears to be a very small dent growing in the back of his head.
After his little address to the town, there are a few things Eddie's got to try and take care of.
He's in the bathroom at one point, unraveling a roll of bandages and wrapping it around his head just above his eyebrows before shielding his bandaged skull beneath his hat.
He's in the bedroom for another moment, emerging in a tight green bodysuit littered with question marks with a heavy green trenchcoat resting over his broad shoulders.
He's in his study soon after that, filing frantically through index cards with handwritten instructions.
And finally, he's in the garage, loading up the trunk of the Riddler-Mobile and preparing himself for a long overdue business trip to...
ACTION - MAYFIELD BANK - EARLY EVENING
Because what better a way to get the Mayor's attention than a good ol' fashioned bank job? The frightened drones are loading up massive tote bags with cash, but the money's immaterial. Hostages are Edward's currency right now, drones in particular, and with enough hostages? The Mayor's bound to budge. He's bound to fix everything, right? ...right?]
What's. Taking. So. Long? [He paces around the bank in frustration, a loaded machine pistol hanging loosely from his fingers.] Where is he? Where? Where?
[Are you one of the Riddler's fellow partners-in-crime? A hostage who got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or are you one of those noble do-gooders, here to try and save the day? Whoever you are, it's getting easier to tell that Eddie's condition is continuing in a steady decline. He's jumpy. He's twitchy. And his mind, what should be his most powerful weapon, is turning against him. What will you do?]
((OOC: The bank heist will come to an end eventually, but it will be at
strike_you_out's hands. Please bear that in mind before responding! Thank you!))
[Phone]
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[Not doing something sooner. Being unable to do a damn thing as he watched her die thanks to one of his greatest mistakes. Again.]
Forget it. It's not as if you could possibly understand.
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[Man, look at him, he was about to tell Eddie to be careful. But with his super fast thoughts he realizes in a split second that Eddie is trying to do something right and if it means going out with a bang then that's the way it's got to be.
And Wally is all too familiar with sacrificing yourself to save the world.
But still.]
...be careful.
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Right.
[...before hanging up the phone.]
aaand switching to action
So Wally's going to find Eddie.
When he finally zips up to the bank and sees what's going on inside, he knows he's got the right place.
Never the sneaky type, Flash just walks right in.]
So... hey. What's going on?
\o/
You've got to be kidding me. [He frowns.] You do realize that I'm not one of yours, right?
[Odd. There's something strangely familiar about the Flash's voice...]
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[He looks around.]
Hostages? Seriously? This was your big plan?
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No, I won't, 'cause we do things differently.
[He crosses his arms.]
So. Any luck so far?
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[The Flash may be past the Hero vs. Villain routine at this point, but Edward sure isn't. He raises the machine pistol and aims at the Flash, really not thinking this move through at all.]
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Jeez, Eddie, if I wanted to stop you I would've done it already.
[1/2]
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You... You aren't here to stop me? [This does not compute.]
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I see what it is you're doing, hero. But it won't work, you fool... You couldn't possibly understand what it---what it feels like to suffer as I have. You've never lost--- [You've never lost someone like Ema.]
Question. Have you ever felt yourself start to... start to slip away? As the one thing you cherish most---the very thing that defines you, gives you strength, gives you purpose---collapses into itself? Your greatest weapon, now your greatest weakness.
[It's almost as if this isn't Mayfield anymore. As if he's back in Gotham, having only just received that horrible news once again. Brain cancer. Self-termination. And now, with no Lazarus Pits, no Revival Machine, there's no way to stop his brain from destroying itself.]
I'm---I'm running out of time. You can't help me. No one can.
[No one understands. Not Schuldig, not Susan, not Slugger or Luke. Not even Wally could---
...wait. It's almost uncanny, but not that he thinks about it... He might just be having an epiphany. As his dip in the Lazarus Pits had given him some startling insight on the riddle of Batman's identity, so too is this brain trauma giving the Riddler some inkling as to the secret identity of the Flash.
The way he's been speaking to him as a friend, never as an enemy. The way he wants to help Edward now, in person, in a way that he couldn't before.
Edward stares at the man in red, eyes wide as he mouths something almost inaudible.]
Wally...?
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Actually, you'd be surprised how many times it comes back to bite me in the...
[And then Edward says it. His name. He barely hears it but it's totally his name, and the look Eddie's giving him makes it obvious.
For a split second, Wally is terrified. One of his greatest fears has just come true.
...or has it? His brain catches up to him, reminding him that first of all, Eddie is kind of his friend. It's a weird situation, sure, but it's true, isn't it? And if there's one thing that Wally's noticed it's that not only does Mayfield change all the rules, but it also changes people. And Edward, the Riddler, has definitely changed for the better.
So sure, this could be bad. But it definitely wasn't as bad as it would be if they were back home.
...Right?
After a moment (which seems like an eternity to the speester), Wally finally replies.]
...Yeah?
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You're... You're the...
[You're a goddamn superhero. A member of the Justice League. He's been lying to Edward all along, playing him for a fool. How could the Riddler have been so blind?
Finally, he shakes his head to clear it. It's not worth discussing right now, not when there's so little time left.]
Get out.
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I'm not going anywhere.
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[He's cut off by an unexpected tremor, very nearly lunging forward but catching himself before he can stumble. In the split-second it takes for Edward to reach up and readjust the brim of his cap, Wally will likely see the beginnings of a trail of bandages wrapped around his skull. Bandages that are sopping with blood...]
Just do us both a favor and run home. [He brings his voice down a decibel, fixing the Speedster with a sincere look. He hates being this vulnerable.] Please. Go.
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