questionauthority: (Out of my head!)
Edward Nigma | The Riddler ([personal profile] questionauthority) wrote in [community profile] mayfield_rpg2012-01-26 08:35 pm

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 at [personal profile] strike_you_out's hands. Please bear that in mind before responding! Thank you!))
fasterthan: (this ain't gonna be pretty)

[personal profile] fasterthan 2012-01-28 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
No, weirdly enough, I'm not. I'm trying to figure out how I can help you, but you're really not making it easy.
fasterthan: (I'm not so sure about this)

[personal profile] fasterthan 2012-01-28 10:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[While Edward's having his epiphany, Flash has started to reply.]

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?
fasterthan: (hey! listen!)

[personal profile] fasterthan 2012-01-29 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Hooboy. This might turn out to be a bad thing after all.]

I'm not going anywhere.
fasterthan: (faster than the speed of light)

[personal profile] fasterthan 2012-01-29 03:28 am (UTC)(link)
[In that split second Wally is rushing over to him, but the bandages startle him into stopping partway. He sees the blood, and he knows now for sure what's going on. Eddie's not going to make it, and there's nothing he can do about it.

This is what he's chosen.

Wally stares at Edward for a moment, and then finally he nods.]


Fine.

[He tries to think of something else to say, something meaningful and poignant and helpful... but he can't.]

Goodbye, Eddie. Good luck.

[And with that, he's gone.]