what am i?

indie . ed nygma ( gotham ) . the riddler . 21+ . fluid time . cross over . activity varies . //// * answers to ed's riddles will be in [ brackets ]

[nxgmaus]

“ but we will meet again, right? no matter how many times --- you will always come back. here. now.”

[nxgmaus]

have u ever been away from a blog for so long it apparently erased ur entire activity?

[nxgmaus]

theednygma‌

His eyes remain on the figure, half waiting for it to disappear, half to become recognizable. When nothing really happens, Ed focuses on the words. He does love puzzles, he loves riddles, word games. How does the figure know? Of course he knows, he is in your head, not your fairy godmother. ❝I don’t — I don’t know the answer.❞ he murmurs, clenching the sleeves of his sweater and folds his arms to his chest, ignoring the pain from the bruise in chest. Is the answer the key to leaving?

Glancing around to see if he was back from work or his mother woke up from her nap, he focuses back on the figure   ❝Do you know the solution?❞ he asks, chewing the inside of his lip  ❝Could you tell me?❞ Could you help me? Or is the figure here simply to torment him? Ed is wary, he does not trust the figure. He seemed confident, happier, neither of those qualities survive in this place. 

‘ do i know the answer? ’ the figure grinned, leaning his elbow on the top of the fridge --- he was excessively, monstrously tall ---  ‘ i came up with the QUESTION.   you were just taking it. you couldn’t see the answer, because you thought this was the reality. but i --- i see it for what it is:   a complex problem in need of a SOLUTION. ’

he curled his fingers to his mouth, pressing his smirk against the back of his knuckles as he stared down at the kid. the kitchen felt dark. he couldn’t quite see out of the corners of his eyes, and the colors were faded, like a poorly rendered flashback. only the tiles --- the green tiles of the kitchen floor was a vivid mint. he held onto that color, pulling himself closer to the floor, closer to the child.

‘ ----- i could help you. ’

[nxgmaus]

theednygma‌

send “just trust me” for my muse to put their life in your muse’s hands. (accepting)

@nxgmaus

He is going crazy, isn’t he? He has read about this in his library, how hallucinations and memory loss can be a sign of a mental illness, like schizophrenia. That is the last thing he needs. And yet, the memory gaps he has, he is sure he does not want to remember —even though he can still figure out what happened, even though it happens all the time and it still hurts — and the hallucination makes him feel less alone.

His eyes on the other figure, he wonders if there is anywhere else in this world that would offer to help him, someone that could actually get him out of this place. Thinking about it feels dangerous enough, as if he will still get punished for it, so he tries to push the thought away as he nods. ❝I am not sure if you can do much.❞ he whispers, so no one else could hear. Does he even need to speak out loud?  ❝What do you think you can do?❞    

‘ hmmmmmm --- that’s the puzzle, isn’t it? ’   the dark figure lurked in the shadow, turned around the corner of the fridge against the moldy kitchen wall.  he was tall ... lanky. stretched out to reach the ceiling, to reach the cookie jar locked away in the cabinet, and the freezer where the tv meals stayed frozen on hungry nights. he had a smile on his face --- no --- a grin. he was laughing past the grimness shining in his eyes. 

‘ but we like puzzles. ’   he knelt down in front of the boy. his image blurred and distorted, overlaying and stretching itself before snapping back into focus. his hair was combed ... no. loose. his hair was loose. relaxed on his forehead, reaching his dark brows like the college students swarming the streets during summer break ...   ‘ they all say it’s impossible. but that’s the thing about RIDDLES ... the solution is  surprisingly simple  once you see it ---- ’

[nxgmaus]

@rejectedhero

‘ it’s a great look on you. you look very imposing. ’   wiping off a smudge on his armor. definitely not stroking it.

[nxgmaus]

i’m still here. lurking ... watching .... waiting for my opportunity to s trike ........ more free time coming up in a few days. in the meantime, i’m hanging about at mutant fairy jesus.

[remanence-of-love]

[azsaszin]

@ Edward Nygma

[nxgmaus]

lethalchronicles‌

nxgmaus replied to your post: me who is behind on green arrow: my dreams and…

riddler @ arrow fam: baseball bat

she will already put an arrow through ur kneecaps ed

guy’s got a vendetta ... he’s not thinking straight

... nor dressed straight but whAt’s nE w --- 

[nxgmaus]

xstrange‌

              truly he’d love to have a rebuttal for such an overarching statement — but really, the riddler wasn’t all that off par. after a pause he’d give a short huff of amusement, his interest peaking at the question.   “   of a sorts —— i am the sorcerer supreme, and master of the mystical arts.. a title i’m sure is hard to believe.   ”

‘ --- alright. ’  ed let out an airy laugh,  ‘ the title was hard to believe, sure. letting a man run around calling himself the SORCERER SUPREME. as for the mystical arts ...... gotham isn’t really the type of city with a sense of curious wonder. well, unless you count jarvis and his measly crew. although, there is one guy i can think of who’s in your league ... ever heard of sebastian blackspell? ’

[nxgmaus]

there was a while when i was really keen on the idea of ed meeting bucky or cap for some popsicle solidarity ---- they wouldn’t get along at all of course ... but the puns and riddles he’d have for those encounters

[nxgmaus]

eloquentyrant‌

The finger draws a rather comical response from him- a series of blinking and an instinctive bird-like jerk of his head back to keep it in view without growing cross eyed. Try as he might to keep his temperament in check. it is plain to see Oswald’s ire building, culminating in a heated outburst.  ”AND THEY ALL BETRAYED ME!”  But just as quickly as his anger has risen to the surface, it dissipates when a whimper from the canine was heard. Grateful for the distraction, the mobster settled for soothing his dog with head rubs, allowing it to curl by his feet for comfort. 

“Which leads back to my point: I have neither the charitable mood nor the patience to suffer further betrayal.” 

The mobster makes no move to stop his conversation partner from helping himself to his liquor stash. After all, he’s busy pouring a glass of whiskey for himself while he listens to the proposed arrangement. A cigar is lit while he muses, exhaling smoke, the taste of ash lingering in his mouth. 

Loathe as he was to admit, while he has official channels of information including spies in the Narrows, Edward has always had monopoly on the more…unpredictable. In a city like Gotham, useful tips are worth it’s weight in gold and he would be a fool not to capitalise on that. It would be a big boon for the information hub he intends to establish down the line…

The treacherous parts of his heart whispers. How relieving it must be…to be connected to Edward Nygma in such a way. To place aside years of buried resentment and tangled connections to simply begin…afresh. He buries it with another deep inhale. 

“No interfering in each other’s separate plans.” Oswald graces Ed with a nod. “No…trying to find out unless it’s details that are voluntarily given. Proper notice when you borrow said personnel and whatever resources. All reasonable terms…But Ed-”

Eyes narrowed as he regards him with a gaze that could only be described as shrewd.  “Just as you need to know you can trust me, I need to know that you could be trusted as well. And let’s not jest- Neither of us are in a position to easily trust one another. So…what is to be done about that?”

‘ secrecy is important in our business. ’   edward concurred, although somewhat begrudgingly,   ‘ but i can’t be held accountable if one of your goons can’t keep a secret or things get to me through the grapevines. or if i figure something out because it’s obviously what you would’ve been planning at. ’

he tipped the glass back and let the liquor burn down his throat, sucking in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.   ‘ so what, oswald? you want to make a BLOOD PACT? you and i are brothers, as you so sentimentally put it. and as i’ve promised, if it ever comes a day when i shall aim to destroy you again ... i will do so in the only way you deserve, after all that you’ve done for me ---- look you in the eye, while i stab you in your heart. ’

he turned, facing the penguin, by the end of his sentence. he folded his lips in, bunching around and between his teeth. the real ones, not the dentures replacing the molars that had suffered under the dentist’s drills.

‘ i’m afraid we could never trust each other like we used to, oswald. i had a lot of time to think whilst in arkham. ’  he clicked his heels together, crossing his ankles and immediately uncrossing it, pacing away from the bar he leaned on.   ‘ --- we are men who are not safe to be around. just like you will always be the backstabbing, machiavellian pragmatist, i will always be the calculative strategist to think ten steps ahead. we’re not going to change. ’   edward let out a desperate chuckle, looking at oswald, his oldest, and perhaps only friend,  ‘ but we do have something.  we UNDERSTAND each other.  i know you just as you know me. we can counter and finish each other’s thought like no one else could. and i for one, rather have an untrustworthy partner that i know, than a noble one that i don’t. ’

[duskryn]

[nxgmaus]

coldcriminal‌

  the mention of his wife has him giving a very harsh stare at him, the type that said that if she was mentioned again, he’d most likely tell ed to get out and deal with his problem on his own. after all, victor was no doctor, but he had a degree in medical science so he had the knowledge to be. mutated eyes remain in a long cold stare at ed, making his point and making ed’s mistake known.  

’ the work of cryogenics doesn’t impair any organs. the point is to freeze and revive, without damage, unless the damage was done before the subject was frozen. ’ which, wasn’t the case here with ed. unless it was. ’ if intelligence is your problem, something is likely wrong with your brain’s cortex. ’

victor didn’t have the type of technology to examine someone’s brain. although he could probably rig something up.  however, he was sure that there was something else wrong with ed, that the process of being frozen had uncovered, rather than affected.  there is a seemingly annoyed sigh before he moved to grab a new sheet of paper and a pen, scribbling ‘edward nygma’ onto the paper and writing a couple other bits of information on it.  ’ did you ever go to the hospital for anything major in you’re life ? ’

‘ ... ’  ed drew back from victor’s harsh stare, pulling the blanket tighter around himself with a sour pout. ‘ there was nothing wrong with my intelligence before i was frozen! ’  he insisted, mild offense spilling from his tone,  ‘ i was the gotham chief of staff. i was the acting mayor, and i was the riddler! i was able to construct and solve riddles and think ten steps ahead. there was no proof that my intellect was dampening. i was ... ’

he was taking drugs.

nygma’s mouth hung open, staring at victor with a stricken expression as doubt and realization dawned in his eyes simultaneously, mixed and reacted into a tint of fear and embarrassment,  ‘ i ... it was a very ---- confusing time in my life. i might have consumed certain ... mind altering substances as a crutch to my faltering state. i didn’t use it for long! it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks ... it couldn’t have left a permanent side effect, could it?! ’

[nxgmaus]

theednygma

How had he managed to silence him for so long? Years he had spent after that place, pretending he was never there at all. Even when his paranoia had led Jim Gordon to Miss Kringle, even when he was the idiot that believed in Oswald. There is a life without him (but he is me, he is part of me). There is an answer somewhere, but it eludes him.

He moves closer and now Ed wants to look at him. The past, the way he has been treated before and in the GCPD, every little thing he mentioned has defined…and he has been there. Who would Ed be without him? ❝ That is because you are in my head. But I did not create you, as I didn’t create anything else that is wrong with me. ❞ he feels like crying again and perhaps he should let himself to do so. He is alone after all. But he doesn’t. He can’t, he won’t, it doesn’t matter.

The answer of the riddler forms to his head, but he doesn’t need to say it out loud. Ed remains quiet, not because he ignores him this time but because for the first time he is actually thinking about it. He still wants him gone, he still wants to be the only Ed that there is, but he is so tired of fighting himself.  ❝ Let’s assume for a moment that we did work together. ❞ he turns his gaze back at his other self  ❝Do you even know how to do that? Even if you do…There will always be one of us that wants to make the decisions. There will always be something to…argue about.❞   

‘ oh ... but i’m not what’s wrong with you, eddie --- i’m here to fix what is. ’ the riddler purred, standing up and backing away again. he didn’t answer immediately, opting to turn and stroll between the couches in their dimly lit living room. walking with confident steps, his head slightly tilted as he put his gloved hands together before his chest, drumming his fingers together.

‘ we make decisions together. on equal ground. ’ he emphasized, shooting ed a glance as he past him by the arm of the couch, ‘ ... you don’t try to erase me, and i won’t do anything without your knowledge. no drugs. no surprises. ’

[nxgmaus]

Tugs on his tie back to her. ' Now...where have you been eddy? ' // 😗

@ivykiss

the smirk on his lips grew, as quietly as his step drawing closer to the gotham siren — true to her reputation, poisonous and deadly. ‘ oh, you know. a short visit to arkham. marv and norton needed someone to remind them who the real enemies were from time to time. couldn’t keep the guards too idle — what are taxpayer dollars for, otherwise ? ’

[nxgmaus]

stormweathered‌

   HE’S HAVING TROUBLE FOLLOWING, and it shows plainly. There’s much in the man’s words that LOSE him, and he mostly just looks mildly BEWILDERED and CONCERNED.   ❛ I do not think it to be fascinating, ❜ he says, slowly, with a deeply furrowed brow.   ❛ I find it to be very weird. ❜

   The question, though, stills any further thought, and he may even be a little OFFENDED. ❛ No, I am not from any Department of Fires. I am the God of Thunder! ❜ His arms fold over his chest, and he NARROWS AN EYE at the man; curiosity in the morbid tale has been piqued enough, regardless of his protestations. ❛ —— so what happened, then? ❜

‘ ... ’ there was a pause. the forensic scientist stared blankly at the blond before him. his eyes behind the thick glasses reflected a kind of vacancy like a computer freezing. ‘ ... i’m sorry, who did you say you were? ’ pushing the glasses up a little of his nose, ed blinked a few times, gripping onto his notepad, ‘ i ... think i better check with my superior --- ’

the hesitation was cut short --- or forgotten --- when he sensed a lick of interest in his discovery.  ‘ oh, uh, it’s largely unverified speculations, but there’s actually been many reports of spontaneous human combustion. documented cases dated back to the 18th century. none of them were eye-witness accounts. but i have a theory that shc begins from the inside -- ’

[nxgmaus]

crimescupid‌

             ♡— ❛❛..I dunno if I would describe mine as..bold.. After all, a circus acrobat without pay could hardly be considered a career, ❜❜ Harley remarks thoughtfully, Swiping her tongue over pearly teeth before grinng wide. ❛❛ -however, I’d say my sudden move in..career. Criminal…was more of that GCPD’s fault. I‘d be on my way ta being a therapist had they not put out a reward that got me sold out.❜❜ Yet, she doesn’t sound too much like she has any REGRETS, perhaps FEIGNING scorn for the sake of THEATRICS.

‘ between you and i, harleen, your new uniform is way better than the tired old white coat. ’ his lips pursed as he said, controlling the grin that threatened to split his face. the tension by his mouth fought with the muscles in his cheeks, accentuating his naturally high cheekbones. ‘ and you shouldn’t sell yourself short ... for someone who’s working without pay, you seem to be living quite comfortably. must have a generous patron, or rewarding investments. ’