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!))
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You already know the answer to that.
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I do, don't I? I know you.
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[She could never stop him, eihther
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[She still misses the old Dream, from time to time. Even if she loves the new one just as much.]
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[And he isn't saying it to be a douche, a part of him is actually pretty sincere about that.]
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I can be quite the troublemaker myself, can't I?
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Oh, you can. If anyone offers you the key to Hell, try to say no.
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[The smirk fades after a moment, and he fixes her with a serious look.]
You'll look after Susan and the others...? If--- [If he doesn't come back.]
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Of course.
[She steps over to hug... gently. Massive injuries and all.]