Feb 14, 2024
Happy Valentines Day, everyone!
artists: Me, @captainbaddecisions @miasmacaron @cardwrecks @motherdearestriddler @billdenbroing
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Happy Valentines Day, everyone!
artists: Me, @captainbaddecisions @miasmacaron @cardwrecks @motherdearestriddler @billdenbroing
Shards of the Nexus: Fragments pt 2
Another handful of drabbles and character moments, and perhaps a more important event that I couldn't really fit in anywhere else.
@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions
Ed kept his knife pointed at the two men before him. Arkham cursed softly, sucking at his fingers, where Ed had cut the gun from his hand. Ed had the gun now, though he only held it at his side. He didn't know how to use it.
It was enough though, that he had it and Arkham didn't. Both men, Arkham and the...the...the weird one held still, clearly surprised to see him.
“I found you.” Ed declared. “I solved your riddle, and I found you.”
“It took you damn long enough.” Arkham drawled.
“I still did it. I did what you wanted me to. And within the time limit you gave too. Acknowledge it.”
Arkham rolled his eyes.
“Narcissistic little twerp. What, do you want a medal? For just doing what you were told? You want a little head pat, someone to call you a good boy?” he sneered.
Conflicting feelings burned in him; elation and embarrassment. Rage. He raised the knife, body tensed for a lunge-
Arkham was smiling.
Ed hesitated.
“You.” he growled, pointing the knife at Arkham once again. “You're just trying to get under my skin so I lose my temper and do something rash.”
“Yeah. I am.” Arkham shrugged. “It seems pretty easy.”
The other Riddler had been slowly moving while he taunted Ed, shielding the other one's body with his own.
“Why are you protecting that...” Ed paused. Selina had said...she'd given him a long, excruciating lecture intertwined with a threat: get with the times, or get out of her sight. Selina worked with all kinds, and if he wanted to continue availing himself of her services, he could not be a danger to her subordinates. He could not afford to lose Selina right now. “I mean, protecting...hiiiiim?”
“Them.” Arkham corrected.
“Detective.” the Detective clarified.
“Why? Are you together?” Ed demanded.
“What's it to ya?” Arkham mocked. “Got a little crush?”
Anger and fear flushed him again, and though he knew his face was turning red, he stayed in place. He wouldn't rise to it this time.
“We're friends.” Detective said, and Ed scoffed.
“People like us don't have friends.” he asserted.
“Maybe, maybe not.” Arkham said. “But we do have allies.”
The barrel of a handgun pressed into his black curls. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see brilliant green and purple, so bright they clashed. Movement from his other side, colors more subdued, but green and purple nonetheless. This other wore shaggy sideburns and held some kind of capsule in his hand, its top opened, twin prongs protruding from the base. A taser?
Surrounded. Ed kept still.
“And how much poorer are you for not having any?” Arkham grinned.
“Feel free to drop those weapons any old time.” the holder of the gun said, his voice deep and acidic.
“But I did it.” he murmured. “I did it. I figured it out on my own.”
The gun-holder sniffed, unimpressed.
“It took you seven months.” Arkham pointed out.
“Don't you try to tell me it's easy! Moving across realities? Without any instructions? No way that's easy!”
“It isn't.” Detective said, taking control of the conversation. “It is actually quite challenging. The paths are often in unexpected places, and sometimes certain requirements must be met.”
“There, you see!” Ed said, gesturing at the Detective. “Thank you-ow!”
The gun-holder had suddenly pressed the barrel very hard against his head, and the furry-cheeked one moved up on him quickly.
“Please put that away.” he said. Oh right. Ed was still holding his knife. He slowly slid it into its sheath, strapped to his thigh, and carefully set Arkham's gun on the ground. The furry-cheeked one deliberately closed his taser capsule in response, and replaced it on his belt.
Ed turned his head to properly look at the man who still held a gun on him.
He didn't look much older than Ed, dark hair and surprisingly green eyes. His gun didn't waver.
“Well?” Ed demanded.
The man looked down his nose at him.
“No ultimatum has been given to me.” the young man stated.
“Puzzles.” the Detective said quietly.
“He's still technically armed.” the young man, Puzzles, complained.
“And there are four of us here.”
“How many of us are there?” Ed asked, looking away from Puzzles.
“Well,” Detective said, “If you're ready, that's something we can find out together.”
?~?~?~?~?
Helix peeked around, searching for signs of life, a bottle of her seasonal cider in hand.
“He's not here.” Unswag said, drawing a worried glance from her. “He's on one of his getaways.”
“Oh.” she said, and her disappointment stung him. “Where? Maybe I can-”
“No.” Unswag shook his head. “I meant it when I said 'getaway'. He wants to be gone for a little while. You understand.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.” she sighed. “Wish he'd told me.”
“He never does. It'll be a week or two, and he'll waltz back in like nothing ever happened.”
“Something I did?”
“Yes.” he admitted. “But also no. Just existing is enough.”
The way she 'just existed' specifically. The way she invaded homes and privacy. The way she was just there sometimes, uninvited. As if she belonged there. As if she lived there. As if she were permanent.
Swag didn't know how to handle it. He didn't know either, but he was much less able to run like Swag did. There had never been permanence in their lives, not family, not home, not identity, nothing. And then this cosmic horror from beyond the stars had smashed her way into their world and their lives...and had decided to love them. Had decided to stay. Lashed herself to her human meat and the emotions and sensations that kept her mortal, just so she could be with all of them.
How was he supposed to handle that?
He sometimes mocked his counterpart for his cowardice. For refusing to be as assertive as he ought to be. But Unswag was no different, was he?
“I'm still here though.” he said impulsively. Swag wasn't here to watch. He would be alone with her. A chilling yet exciting prospect.
Helix found a seat for herself in response, and he curled his long stick legs into the chair next to her.
They shared the cider and a crossword between them.
?~?~?~?~?
Narci watched YJ through the screen as he hovered over the ticking bomb. The older Riddler was carefully disassembling it in a different room, but Narci was watching and providing instructions.
He watched YJ's little shears hover over the twin wires connecting the timer to the explosive.
“Okay.” Narci said. “We've got a red wire and a...brown wire? Weird, isn't it usually blue?”
“Tailor made just for me.” YJ muttered darkly. “Well, which one is it?”
“Cut the red one.” Narci answered.
The shears moved from one wire to the other, hesitating. Why was he doing that? They were running low on time.
“Er...which one?”
“The red one.” Narci repeated. YJ swiped a hand over his face. He'd lost his glasses in a previous section of the maze, but that hadn't slowed him down that Narci could see. The shears moved back and forth.
“Red!” Narci snapped. The time was ticking down.
“Which one is it!” YJ snapped back.
“The fucking red one!”
“Narci, I can't see red! Right or left!” YJ cried. Seconds left.
“What? What do you mean-Left! It's left!”
“Too late.” Arkham chimed in over the intercom. “YJ, you're dead. Narci, you let your partner die. Welcome to failure, boys.”
“Goddamnit!” YJ cursed.
“What do you mean, you can't see red?” Narci demanded, frustration and disappointment wrestling in his chest.
“It means he's colorblind, you little idiot!” Puzzles shouted into the intercom. “We told you that before we started! Didn't you read the file?”
“Yes!” Narci shouted back. “I memorized it! It didn't say anything about being colorblind!”
“Protanomaly! Do you know what words mean?”
“Isn't that about him being nearsighted?”
“No, my eyes are fine otherwise.” YJ sighed.
“You've got a phone, why didn't you look it up?” Puzzles persisted, the acid in his voice conveyed perfectly over the crackling intercom speakers. Narci hadn't wanted to admit that he hadn't known the word, but now that he typed it in...
Wow. Really no red. That was kinda sad, it was such a nice color.
“Well why was he sent in there to do this if he's disabled?” Narci demanded.
“Oh, no you don't.” Arkham said, reclaiming control of the intercom. “You are the one who failed to prepare. You were given all of the information you needed in order to succeed, and you did not utilize it. You will not blame your partner for your failure. He was counting on you, and you are the one who failed him.”
“But shouldn't it have been the other way around?” Narci protested past the stinging words. “I should have been the one to go in! I can see everything! I could have gotten through those traps much more easily!”
“And that is why you were to be support.” the Detective's musical voice replaced Arkham, and Narci cringed. He hated letting anyone see him fail, but the elegant older Riddler most of all. “Your physical capabilities are not in question. YJ's are. YJ's ability to work with others has already been proven. However, you clearly need practice in teamwork. That is what this is exercise is about. Not showing off what you do best, but working on what you do worst.”
Narci bit down on his response. He hadn't talked back to the Detective since that first time. He-they-were too important. They were the most important.
And they were right. Narci did not work well with others. That wasn't what he had been trained for. Even now, he couldn't seem to stop seeing these 'brothers' as rivals. To chafe under the label of 'youngest' and least attested.
“Step out of the booth Narci, it's Puzzles turn.” Arkham said. “Get ready to go into the maze, if you're so sure you can make it. I'm shuffling the traps, so you'd better hope Puzzles is better support than you were.”
Arkham does have a sense of humor, but it’s not always so easy to understand. In this case...
It was kind of obvious.
Artist: veritcalthoughts (deactivated)
me when the multiplayer live service dc videogame game doesn’t actually follow up on arkham plots and doesn’t show the riddler’s slide into further insanity after the man he’d been obsessed with beating for most of his life dies at someone else’s hands and just has him spout random unrelated riddles at king shark
Shards of the Nexus: A Handful of Fragments
Several short bits of dialogue and character moments that I couldn't really fit into other stories. First of an ongoing drabble collection.
Gen, with a hinting of YJ/Bruce relationship. Narci is working on his language, but still sometimes uses words we might find inappropriate.
“I bet it's because you're black.” Narci said suddenly. “The way your teachers treat you. I saw it happen a lot in the training center. We had loads of black students, and yeah, they weren't as good as me, but they weren't bad either. They were just ignored more than everyone else. They could have done just fine otherwise.”
“Then they would have been your rivals.” Nash pointed out. “Isn't it better for you that they got left behind?”
“No way, even at their best, they would have never have been my rivals. No one was. They would have been good, great even, but not my equal. I was never worried about that.”
“Huh. Well that's good for you. But I'm not black.”
Narci regarded Nash carefully, taking in his details again.
“You're not?”
“Nah. My gramma was, but no one else.”
“Oh. Mulatto then.”
Nash seared him with a judgmental stare.
“Aren't you too smart for words like that?”
“Ah-sorry!” Narci fumbled. “I thought that was the polite term.”
“The polite term would be not giving a shit. It doesn't matter anyway. Does it?”
“N-no...”
“People might try to make it matter, but it doesn't.” Nash looked away. “But you might be right. About my teachers, I mean. I might just have to...test them on that. Might need a little help with getting them all to the right place though.”
Narci's embarrassment evaporated under his angelic grin.
“Oh, you bet!”
?~?~?~?~?
Helix held the lump of protoplasmic gray in her lap as they just watched, and waited. This is what they had agreed upon. This is what they had decided.
It shifted under his sky blue gaze, the thin, anxious line of this mouth. Slowly, it's formless body took shape. From primordial dough protruded an arm, a leg. Constriction near the top brought a head and neck into being. Tiny fingers burst from flattening palms, uneven tubes wriggling, solidifying into proper, jointed shapes.
It struggled with its bones, jerking and twisting them into place, but it began to falter, as if tiring.
“Come on now.” he said quietly. “Pull on through.”
“You can do it.” she murmured.
Together they encouraged the quickening creature, as it faced the first battle of every living thing; the fight to be born.
A rosy flush blossomed across newly formed skin, gray melting away into pale pink. Orange hair sprouted like moss, petal-like ears unfolding.
At the last arose the thing that would forever cut it off from what it was meant to be, and set it on it's new path: a face, the grooves of eyes and mouth splitting, deepening, opening up in incomprehension for the world it found itself in. It had a jaw, teeth, a nose, eyebrows, all things none of it's original kind ever had.
Helix held the almost fully formed being out to him.
“Quick, you have to name it!” she said.
He took it in his arms and gazed carefully down as the last details came into place.
“Madeline.” he said. “Your name is Madeline.”
The now-child rearranged herself for the last time, fully and permanently a part of their world.
?~?~?~?~?
“-and it got caught in the door behind him! Nearly jerked him right off his feet.” Arkham said, and Detective laughed. “Next time I saw him, he had tear away zones built into it, but I'll never forget the dumbfounded look on his face. He knows I saw him too. He doesn't get to live that down.”
“I know why he wears a cape, and he does use it well, but it really is a weak point, isn't it? And they're all like that! Whatever is he teaching those children?”
“Ever grab a Robin by his cape and smack him into something?” Arkham asked.
“I should say not. Robin was a strapping young lad by the time I met him. Certainly not the sort I could just swing about.” Detective poured Arkham another cup of coffee. He sipped with an appreciative nod. “Well, the first one, anyway. And by the time the second and third rolled around, I had stepped away from physical engagements with vigilantes. Simply wasn't my forte. And the thought of violently putting my hands on a child didn't really sit well with me.”
Arkham shrugged.
“If they attack you, you defend yourself.” he said simply. “It's a valuable lesson, and each one of those brats needed to learn it in turn. If they wanted to survive, that is.”
“Fair.” Detective said.” Batgirl, however...”
“Hopeless.” Arkham declared.
“Enthusiastic.” Detective rejoined. “But perhaps a bit too focused on aesthetics over training. At least the cape is short?”
“On your world maybe.” Arkham scoffed. “You've got the redhead, right? Yeah, we had her too, for a little while. Things went poorly for her, I hear. Now I've got to deal with a silent stalker in a gimp suit, and she wears a long cape.”
“Ever grab her cape?”
“Not once.” Arkham said. “I'm pretty sure she will actually just kill me. I respect that, so I don't play games with her. Her 'brothers' could learn a thing or two from her, but they won't.”
“Oh, I don't know.” Detective mused. “They aren't entirely brainless after all.”
“Just close to it, if they keep wearing the damn capes.”
?~?~?~?~?
“Hey Eddie?” Bruce asked. “Can you tell me what I'm like on other worlds?”
YJ leaned against his boyfriends shoulder, glanced up towards his face.
“Not much different than here, honestly.” he said. “Everywhere I go, you're an obnoxious rich boy.”
“Heaping praise, thank you so much.”
“Well I've never actually met another you. I just know about them because they're all also super rich and prominent figures in their own Gothams. Universally philanthropic, throw huge parties, fund half the city, all the same. You could go meet them yourself, I'm sure they'd all find it entertaining.”
“Eh, I dunno. I don't see how you can stand to spend so much time outside of your own dimension, even to spend time with me. Doesn't it drive you bonkers?”
“Well, first of all, I've never been bonkers. Second of all, what do you mean? Most other worlds aren't all that strange. The city looks different in some of them, yes, but-”
“That's not what I mean.” Bruce cut him off. “I mean the way it feels. You don't feel it? I've only been to a few others, but every time, it really feels like I shouldn't exist there. Like even the sky is rejecting me. It's like there's something wrong with me specifically.”
YJ sat up.
“I've never felt that.” he said. “The worlds are kind of alive. Maybe there a just some people who don't fit well into others.”
“Is there just something different about me?”
YJ thought about it.
“You seem similar...oh. Wait. You're the only one I know of who's family is still alive.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah...all the others lost their parents at a young age. Otherwise, they're the same.”
“Well, thank my lucky stars, I guess. If that's what gets me pushed out of other worlds, I'll take it! Poor other me's. I hope they're all right.”
“Yeah. I wonder what kind of a difference it makes, that you having your family makes the worlds see you differently?”
Bruce shivered.
“I'd rather not think about it.”
?~?~?~?~?
Shards of the Nexus: La Belle Malefique
Finding Narci.
We're gonna throw a great big content warning on this one for slurs and hateful language. Puzzles had some gender essentialist ideas to overcome, but Narci was a straight up phobe, and his language and thought processes reflect this most horribly.
Song: Dance of Thorns-Homestuck (Strife!)
@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions @whocares-idont
Detective hurried through the darkened streets, following their silent, yet insistent, internal compass.
This way. Then this way. Then this way.
In the apartments above them, they could hear people complaining about the sudden power outage, see candles and flashlights lighting up in the open windows.
This way. Then this way. Detective followed the guiding knowledge like a fluttering butterfly.
A Gotham city block without power was not the encompassing darkness one might have expected. The buildings were blackened, yes, but the thick cloud cover caught the copious light pollution of the rest of the city, and lit up a dull red.
This way. Down this alley. And...
Up.
Above them, against the background of ruddy clouds, two great birds flew. They danced in the air, bouncing off the brick, vaulting the fire escape. The black and the blue Detective recognized; that particular bird also flew over their Gotham as well. But the lime green and mauve...
That was very different.
The dueling dancers disappeared over the rooftop. Acting quickly, Detective hooked the ladder of the fire escape, and yanked it down. They were not an athletic person, and by the time they got to the roof, Nightwing and the Riddler were nearly to the other side.
With his skintight outfit, acrobatic prowess, black hair and blue eyes, he would not have looked out of place with all the orphans the Batman kept collecting. Perhaps Mr. Wayne had simply missed this one, but what an amusing thing that would be: a riddling Robin!
A sparkling trail caught their eye; jewels, spilled across the roof from a torn pouch girdled at the Riddler's waist. So that was tonight's haul. Detective scooped up a thin chain, diamond drop pendant throwing multifaceted fire.
The light caught Nightwing's eye.
“What are you doing?” he exclaimed. “Get to the street! It's dangerous here!”
“When is the night's wing like a sour note?” the Riddler asked. A powerful kick to the stomach sent Batmans protege flying over the edge of the roof.
“When they're both flat.” he finished.
Detective clapped. The Riddler whirled to face them.
“Bravo!” they exclaimed. “Nightwing is a challenging foe. The riddle could use some workshopping, but we do what we can on the fly, don't we? He's probably on his way back up though, so we should be away quickly. Don't worry, I am only here to help.”
Detective watched the young mans expression morph from confused to incredulous, wary, and finally disgust.
“Are you crazy?” he demanded, a hard edge to his airy voice. “Is that what you are? I went to all that trouble to take the power out so no one would see me...and now I have to kill you anyway!”
“I assure you, that is unnecessary.” Detective said. “I am on your si-!”
The Riddler charged. Detective retreated to the fire escape.
?~?~?~?~?
Ed couldn't believe it. Some fool civilian had followed him up to the roof! Paparazzi? Extortionist? Ed deserved the attention, but he couldn't afford it tonight. But then the fool had piped up in some weird sissy voice and made fun of him!
He was scrambling down the fire escape now, but Ed could see that his body was thin and restricted in his close-cut clothes. This weird man was weak, and not very fast. Plus, he kept slowing down to place what looked like a shiny string across the width of the fire escape. The strings clung to Ed as he barreled down the stairs after his prey, but they didn't slow him down at all.
Somehow, the strange, graceful man reached the ground before he did, but Ed gathered himself for great leap-
-and crashed to the ground as a web of pain constricted around his body. He was bound! Bound by something he couldn't see, but could feel, cutting into his skin, criss-crossing his body with stinging strands. He writhed, but the cuts only deepened. The unusual man stood with his fists crossed in front of him, as if pulling something tight, and Ed could just barely see the shine of light reflecting off the strings in his gloved hands.
“What is this?” he demanded. “Some kind of sharp wire?”
“Why, that's exactly what it is.” the odd man said with his songlike voice. “I don't like doing this kind of thing, you know. I am reformed. Hurting people is no longer in my repertoire. But I still remember how, and will gladly defend myself, if need be. Now please, let us talk instead.”
Up close, Ed could finally see in detail what it was that made the man seem so weird and unsettling to him. While he was wearing a suit, the cut of it was wrong. It was cut for a woman, detailed for a woman, with peplums and slim lapels, a scarf with a bow rather than a masculine tie. He was wearing jewelry, makeup, women's shoes!
He was a freak.
Ed's father had warned him about people like this. People so flawed and twisted that they had to pretend to be something else, so envious of the perfection of the great and the good, that they had to prey on their superiors in order to even feel human. To fulfill their deviant hungers. His father had warned him that they would try to corrupt him if they ever got close, and this one already had him tied up!
“I'm not talking to you, you degenerate freak!” he snarled. “I know what you are.”
“Let's nevermind that, shall we? Please hold still. You are beginning to bleed. Now, have you not recently noticed some odd happenings around the city? People disappearing and reappearing? Places or buildings that are not where they should be, or simply shouldn't exist at all? Out of place animals?”
“Fuck off! I told you, I don't talk to abominations! I know what you want! You won't be ravishing me you nasty pervert! Touch me and I'll gut you like a fish!”
“Good heavens. Get a grip on yourself young man! This is rather important. Now listen, and I will let you free. I have no intentions whatsoever of doing anything to you. Put your fears and threats aside. You and I have something in common, Edward Nigma.”
Ed flinched.
“How do you know that name?”
“Have you noticed any of the things I mentioned?”
“Answer me!”
“Have you?”
A backwards street. A small herd of antelope washed ashore in the harbor. Lost children who had no parents in the city looking for them. Everyone knew something strange was going on. Was this sick creep responsible?
“Is it you? Are you the one doing this?” Some new supervillain like one of those overpowered freakshows from Metropolis? “If I kill you, I'll be a hero.”
“Set that thought aside this instant, young man. I can't do anything of the sort. Your world is colliding with others. I am from one of those other worlds. I am Edward Nigma. I am a friend.”
Ed reeled. Impossible. Even if the multiple worlds thing was true, he refused to believe that another him could ever be such a detestable atrocity as this creature, with his incredibly green eyes, and perfect skin, and beautiful hair. Revolting.
“I know it's difficult to believe, but I represent a small group of like individuals, a Riddler coalition, if you will-”
“I won't!” Ed insisted. “Are you stupid? Who would ever believe that? Let me go, you wretched sodomite!”
Finally, consternation pulled at the serene face.
“Watch your language.” he warned sharply. “I still control the strings, you know.”
Ed seethed silently, hateful disgust a thick veneer over growing terror. He was at this freaks mercy. If those wires were pulled tightly enough...
Just because he said he didn't mean Ed any harm, didn't mean he was telling the truth. Selina had taught him that much. But what else could he do?
“F-fine.” he hissed. “What do you want then?”
He began to spin a tale, a wild story of multiversal collisions, multiple versions of reality, of himself. Of an oncoming danger. It was insane. Unbelievable. But...
But he'd walked down the backwards street. He'd seen the poor drowned antelope washed up on the beach. Selina and Otis had both mentioned the lost children who shouldn't exist. Something was going on. Could it be this?
Could this be him? Could he actually be something so strange, so horrifying, so wrong, in some other world?
Did that make Ed the pinnacle? The one perfect Riddler, in a line of otherwise flawed prototypes?
That would make sense. But he wasn't sure. He didn't trust this monstrous thing. Everyone knew that no matter how innocent, how beautiful these creatures seemed, there was only one thing they really wanted. This man was trying to trick him!
“No!” Ed cried, beginning to squirm. “You're lying! I hate liars!”
“Wait, wait, wait, hold still!” his captor exclaimed. The wires cut deeper into his skin, but he could break them, he knew he could!
The strange man's head whipped up at a sudden sound, and he cursed quietly, releasing the wires.
“Nightwing.” he whispered. “Run! I'll meet you again later.”
He dashed out of sight, leaving Ed to wriggle free and run from Nightwing's pursuit.
?~?~?~?~?
“So it went poorly, I take it.” Arkham said, examining their face and hands closely for injuries.
“He reacted even worse than Puzzles did, I'm afraid.” Detective admitted sadly.
“Well. Puzzles is being 'educated'. You think this one has the potential?”
“I swear I saw him. He's important somehow. Linked to the danger.”
“But that's all you have. The impression of a link. Your recruitment attempts might not all be meant to succeed, dear. Did you think of that?”
Detective sighed. “I hadn't wanted to. But of course it's possibility. Failure is...”
“Not something we like to contemplate.” Arkham finished. “But not everyone can be worthy of the name. I have my doubts about someone who goes practically feral over something as meaningless as physical appearance. Does someone like that really have the flexibility of mind necessary to be one of us?”
“He was very young.” Detective pointed out. “Younger than Puzzles. He may simply never have been exposed.”
“That's his problem then. It still shows a rigidity of thought that we both know wouldn't do us any favors.”
“And it was bad timing.” Detective continued. “He was in the middle of a fight.”
Arkham grasped their chin, rough fingers firm but careful on their flawless skin.
“Don't throw yourself away on this. There are others, aren't there? There is a statistical probability that some of us simply won't fit. This is not something you can prevent. Look for the others. If it comes down to it, I can test him myself. But there are others to who can take his place.”
“I...suppose so.” Detective said. But the boy's skill and drive clutched at their brain, and things that got stuck in their head like that rarely shook free easily.
?~?~?~?~?
“Rather lucky, actually.” Selina was saying. “One of those wires was wrapped around your throat. The cuts aren't deep, but...Hm. I don't know of anyone who uses razor floss like that. I contemplated it once, but it's very challenging to control.”
“Yeah, he knew what he was doing.” Ed sulked. He hadn't wanted to come to Selina after his scuffle with that filthy pervert, but he'd robbed that store for the money she could get him, and he needed what money he could get. He'd also hoped she might know who the bastard was, but that was a no go. “But he won't get me again. If I see him again, I'll just kill him. No tranny fag will ever touch me.”
Selina clucked her tongue, pressing the alcohol wipe a little harder against one of his thin cuts. He hissed at the sting.
“You seem pretty sure that's what they wanted.” she said.
“Well, don't they all?” he said. Everything he'd ever heard pointed to that conclusion. His father always told him...
“Actually...no.” Selina said. Ed stared. She shrugged. “They don't. Not anymore than anyone else.”
“H-how do you know?” he demanded.
“How do you?” she countered.
“W-well...”
“Your daddy told you?” she asked, cutting right to the heart of it. “Didn't you kill that guy? Why listen to anything he said?”
“He wasn't wrong about everything. Miss Kyle, I am an extremely handsome young man. You've said so yourself. I can't trust that any such person would be able to overcome their freakish nature when presented with a specimen like me.”
Selina snorted.
“You weren't a part of the gymnastics community!” he protested. “You don't know what it was like!”
“Did you get propositioned often?”
“All the time! Even when I was a kid! Practically everyone who talked to me was after me. My father was wrong about a lot. He deserved it. But he protected me from them. Now I've got to do it myself.”
“Hmm. Everybody? Are you sure they weren't just trying to be friendly? Just talking to someone who happened to be nearby? Did your father really tell you that everyone who talked to you was a predator? Even the other kids? Did you ever think that was just a way to control you?”
Eds face blanked. No, he hadn't actually ever thought that.
“Besides, why get mad about someone being a freak? You're one too.”
He jerked away from her.
“I'm not!” he exclaimed.
“You wear a leotard covered in question marks. You painted them yourself. You leave godawful riddles at the sites of your robberies. You think a normal person does any of that? You're surrounded by freaks, kid. Otis talks to rats. I wear cat ears and fuck a furry on the Gotham rooftops twice a week.”
Ed knew his face was going red, and looked away. Selina was a very pretty and mature woman, and hearing her talk in such a vulgar fashion was embarrassing. Also it made him feel weird.
“Oh good grief, Ed, you're old enough to know about things like that! Aren't you?”
Ed kept quiet. Selina sighed deeply.
“If your father wasn't already dead, I'd rip his guts out for making me be the one to have this conversation with you. Alright, so first of all, sex and gender-”
?~?~?~?~?
The searching had been a slight challenge, but Detective had welcomed it. The tiny diamond drop necklace they had picked up in this young Riddler's world still had its jeweler's tag. They could trace it back to the jeweler who created it, the store it was stolen from, when it was stolen, and most importantly, who was fencing the gems that were stolen alongside it.
Selina Kyle. The Catwoman.
They were on good terms with the Catwoman of their world, and were pleased to find her as classy and personable here.
“You got that kid real tangled up, you know. “ she held up the diamond pendant, letting rainbows spark across their faces. “Is it true? The story you told him about other worlds?”
“I would like to know his location.”
“That could be...expensive.” she said. “I'm not usually one to rat out my suppliers, you know. Kid's young, fumbles sometimes, but he has the potential to make it big. And if he doesn't, he's still a decent thief. Good eye for valuables. So why should I?”
“If you are interested in a little fun, you might just wander down to Cobbert Park, on Lance Street, and shimmy between the trunk of the big maple and the fencepost that's marked with the Hangul for 'path'. I bet you'll find something very interesting there.”
“And I suppose that's my answer. Well, I'll have to think about it.”
“Why, I couldn't ask for more~”
A few days later, they were back in her presence, exchanging addresses.
?~?~?~?~?
Ed couldn't believe what he was seeing. That tranny freak was at his door! How? How had he found him? And...was he wearing one of the jewels Ed had lost?
Would the indignities ever cease?
This...creature, had tricked him, escaped him, stolen from him, prompted Selina-a person he looked up to-to give him an utterly mortifying lecture on sex and sexuality, and now he was taunting him by showing up at his door, wearing those stolen goods!
Ed was going to murder him!
No...no...Selina had said to control his emotions. That he could maybe learn something from this person. That he could at least try.
So he would at least try.
He opened the door.
“You...come in.” he said. The trann-person, the person, traipsed right in, as if he owned the place, but he did remove his frilly hat and coat, and he looked more...normal underneath.
But that just proved his duplicitousness, didn't it? Hiding what he was, pretending-
No, no. Selina had said, she knew people, and if Ed wanted to stay on good terms with her, he'd better learn...
Ed could learn. Ed was good at learning, when he was allowed to. Besides, he couldn't afford to lose Selina. She was the only person who would fence his stolen goods. Everyone else was afraid of him, and they should be, but that also limited his income supply considerably.
“So. What do you want?”
His guest, removed the diamond pendant and handed it over. Ed seethed over the insult, but pushed it down, and accepted the jewel.
“We got off on the wrong foot.” his guest said, his voice rich and songlike. “It is rude to interrupt someone while they are 'at work', so to speak. I hope I find you under less stressful circumstances.”
“I guess so. How did you find me, actually?”
“I am observant and persuasive. As I assume you are, and all of our kind must be.”
“That. What is that? That story. That doesn't make sense. You don't make sense.”
A mysterious smile curved his guests glossed lips.
“Let me explain to you then.” he turned away, to move further into Ed's lair.
Ed balled his fists together, and brought them both down on the back of his head.
He crumpled, and Ed caught him, dragging him gingerly into the darkness.
Ed would make him make sense.
?~?~?~?~?
Something heavy slammed into Ed, hard enough to flatten him to the ground and drive all the air from his lungs. He gasped for breath, unable to even cry out as whatever it was thudded into his prone form a second time. He'd never been hit that hard in his life. He'd never even hit the mat that hard. He hadn't realized the shock a body went through after an impact like that, why he couldn't seem to move.
A second man was there, rumpled suit and combat boots, stubbled chin and mad eyes. Ed hadn't even heard him sneak in. He stood over Ed like a monument to the power and brutality he sought. On his suit were grimy golden question marks. In his hands, a cane that might as well be a sledgehammer, grungy green and also shaped like a question mark. And on his face, an expression of pure judgment.
“Really, dear?” his voice was smoke-rough, mocking. “Some punk kid caught you by surprise?”
Ed's captive delicately cleared his throat.
“I didn't exactly come looking for a fight.” he said, his musical voice evil in Ed's ears. “I wanted to speak with him on his own turf so he might feel safer. Threats to disembowel me were a bit more serious than I previously gave him credit for.”
“Credit? I wouldn't give him any at all.” the rough man glanced around in disdain. “Look at this sorry excuse for a lair. Sloppy set-up. Not a spark of creativity.”
Ed made to move, and the man lifted his cane to strike again.
“Throw the knife over there.” he commanded. His cane twitched when Ed didn't immediately comply, but he didn't repeat himself. Ed tossed the knife. Better that than to get hit again.
“Can't even torture someone properly.” he continued, as if critiquing Ed's schoolwork. “What are those cuts? Who taught you how to restrain someone? Those knots are worthless. If our little Detective had wanted to leave, they could have gotten up and gone whenever they wanted.”
Ed tilted his head back to look at his captive. The gross abomination had a slightly guilty expression on his face. His shoulders wriggled, and within a few moments, his hands were free of the cords.
Ed burned with humiliation. Again. The wretched creature had tricked him again! Made a fool of him, this time in front of someone else!
“I'll slaughter you both.” he promised, his soft voice shaking with rage. “I'll hang your bodies in Gotham park.”
The rough man looked down his crooked nose at Ed.
“Mundane.” he spat derisively. The proclamation itself could have gutted Ed.
“I'm not-!” he started.
“Common. Unremarkable. Boring.” the man cut him off, poison dart words.
“You don't know anything about me!”
“I see people like you every day. Pathetic clouds of braggadocio with no legs to stand on. Banal. Insipid. Derivative. They never have anything to offer, and nobody cares when they're gone.”
“I'm better than that!” he shouted, a quick kip-up bringing him to his feet. The man stepped forward, shoving the head of his cane into Ed's stomach just at the moment of unbalance, and knocking him onto his rear.
“Prove it.” the man challenged. “What do you have to offer?”
Ed tried to stand again, to get around the cane, but the man had a pistol in his hand. Ed hadn't seen him pull it.
“Do you have anything? Anything other than this?” he nudged Ed's chest with the head of his cane. “You're really proud of this body, aren't you? But bodies age. They weaken. Do you have anything to carry you when that happens? Mind? Spirit? You look weak. Do you have what it takes?”
“I'm-” he tried once again to get up, to spit defiance in the mans face, but the venomous words had gripped his heart, and the gun pointed at his face drained his spirit.
“Arkham.” the deviant man said quietly, but the other kept his gun level.
“There are three rooms ahead of you.” the man said. “One is a furnace at five hundred degrees. Another is filled with mustard gas. The third houses a hungry wolf who hasn't eaten in a year. Where do you go to escape safely? Quickly now!”
His mind raced, but the fear, and disorientation, the suddenness of it all distracted him. Was he stronger than a hungry wolf? Could he run through the furnace fast enough to survive? Could he hold his breath in the gas room? No, that stuff burned skin, didn't it?
“So slow.” the man sneered.
But the answer bloomed in him, hope spreading its petals wide.
“I stay here!” he said. “The room I'm in is safe, so I stay.”
The man rolled his eyes.
“And never make any progress at all.” Contempt oozed from every word. “You are not the Riddler.”
“Y-you don't tell me-!”
“You should let this one go, dear.” the man said to the degenerate, ignoring him completely. “He simply isn't going to measure up to the others. He isn't worthy of the name.”
With the gun off of him, and the man turned away, Ed leapt to his feet and lunged.
He felt the crack of the cane against his skull, but only for a moment.
When he opened his eyes again, his head was splitting and his face felt sticky. But he was alive. That man-another Riddler?-had failed to kill him.
No. The memory of the mans frigid, scornful eyes filled his mind. If he had wanted Ed dead, he would be dead. He knew it down in his quivering guts.
He tried sitting up, but his hair was stuck to the floor by his own congealing blood, and he had to painfully peel his curls up. Everything felt tender and swollen. He was afraid to look in the mirror. Ed slowly made his way to the tub, stripping carefully out of his sodden leotard, and running the coldest water he could get. It wasn't quite an ice bath, but it did begin to numb the pain in his body.
His head still throbbed. He was afraid to touch it, afraid to try to wash his hair. He'd never seen so much of his own blood before. The fear sparked his anger, disgust in himself for being so faint of heart.
Common, the man had called him. Denied him his excellence. Denied him his name. All in the defense of some simpering transvestite!
Were they lovers? Disgust crawled down his throat at the thought. That he might have been beaten up, humiliated by some kind of faggot, no matter how masculine and powerful he had seemed...
Searing hatred filled him, hot, raging tears stung his eyes. He couldn't let this go. He would show them. He'd prove it. He was something special, he always had been, he was meant for greatness! He would show them, and they would have to acknowledge it!
They wanted him to. It hit him like lightning. They wanted him to. That was why he'd been left alive. The man had given him a time limit. He had a year. A year to figuratively join the pack. And if not...
He almost howled with frustration when the answer came to him.
A wolf that didn't eat within a year would be dead.
God I hate 90's fashion. Shapeless, ultra baggy nonsense. Anyway!
Arkham actually wasn't always as terrifying as we know him to be. When he was younger, it was all just a grand game! We still see glimpses of that dire playfulness, but decades of abuse within Gotham's brutal prisons and useless mental institutions did Arkham no favors. Being a massive nerd in the 70's and 80's didn't either, nor did his father's efforts to 'toughen him up', when he was a kid.
His parents fate is unknown. Most people just assume that he killed them, and he does not confirm or deny this. Given that they were born in the 1940's, there are plenty of reasons why they might no longer be around.
Arkham lets his reputation carry him, but if challenged, will not hesitate to reinforce that reputation. However, the passage of time, and the (sometimes grudging) support of Family allows him to grow into taking his 'father' role more seriously. Not necessarily less harsh, but more serious about mentoring and giving advice, rather than just tormenting the youngsters.
Everybody thought he was going to be the one influencing Puzzles, but turns out, it was the other way around.
He's still a massive dick though.
He and Detective are surprisingly ride or die for each other, considering they are on opposite ends of the Riddler spectrum. It isn't unusual that they will come to the other's aid, if it's truly necessary.
@captainbaddecisions @cardwrecks
Shards of the Nexus: Tangled Pinstripes
Things were very tenuous for him, in the beginning.
Song: Building a Mystery- Sarah McLachlan
@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions
Detective watched as his blonde counterpart took a slow pull from his glittery green vape, and breathed out a long stream of apple scented steam.
“Well,” he said. “At least my other me's are hot.”
Detective and YJ shared a glance.
“It's good you're taking this so well.” YJ said, soft lisp sliding along his tongue. “Because we know there is another, and we think there may be more. Are you interested?”
“In what?” the blonde asked, splaying himself indolently across his couch. “I'mma be real wit'chu fellas. I ain't really interested in some riddle man fan club. Tryin' to leave all that behind.”
“As did I.” Detective said. “Of course, you would not be forced to participate in anything you didn't want to. This is not some kind of secret society. But...it is fascinating, is it not? Other worlds, multiversal theory. That you can reach into another reality and find yourself.”
“I dunno. Sounds like a whole bunch of not my business.”
“You aren't even interested in other worlds?” YJ asked, incredulous.
“Look, gentlefriends, I got a good thing goin' here.” He pulled himself off the couch and stretched. “And I ain't inclined to fuck around with it, especially not for the sake of the Riddler. Hate that guy. Now, if you'll excuse me...Feel free to buy a drink, watch the night life, whatever, but don't you cause no problems in my club.”
He walked right past them, out into the undulating chaos of the dance floor, where several people immediately draped themselves all over him.
Arkham chuckled.
“Ooh, he's got a bit of swagger, hasn't he? Ha. I kind of want to break his legs.”
“We cannot force anyone.” Detective said. “That isn't the point of this.”
“I can't imagine anyone with a mind like ours having no interest in the multiverse.” YJ muttered.
“Just give it a bit of time.” Arkham said. “The seed's planted now. If he's worthy of the name, he won't be able to resist learning more. And if he's not...no need to waste our time.”
There was no threat contained within the words, but the way Arkham said it sparked worry in YJ's mind. When Detective described finding their counterparts in other worlds, there was a definite edge of urgency involved. If Arkham fully agreed with Detective's quest, YJ couldn't help but wonder how far he might go to make sure that quest wasn't endangered.
Loyalty wasn't a word YJ would ascribe to Arkham, but decisiveness certainly was.
“I think I actually would like a drink, honestly.” Detective said. “Why waste what might be our only opportunity to see what kind of concoctions a Riddler might come up with?”
YJ joined them at the question mark shaped bar. People made room for them, giving both he and Detective appreciative looks. Bashfulness warmed his fuzzy cheeks. Detective, of course, was incredibly beautiful, like the angels of myth. Himself, however...Well, he didn't think he was ugly! Far from it! It was just that, on his world, in his line of work, people like him were not very favored. He was aware of the traits he had that others would consider 'flaws'. The gap in his teeth, the lisp in his voice, the color blindness, the neurodivergence, all the crime. But the people here had imperfect faces, wild make up, raccoon tail stripes in their hair. They wore platform boots, and neon fishnets, and they smiled at him and winked.
The dancers didn't all dance well, but they danced freely, and everyone sparkled in the lights from the floor and ceiling, spangled in the reflected magic of the spinning disco ball.
This place was hypnotic, and the Mesmer in the center was the Riddler who wasn't, the Riddler who didn't claim it, but displayed it everywhere nonetheless. Question mark iconography peppered the entire place, named it, shaped it, hung from the non-Riddler's neck like a golden noose. The drinks menu was full of villain-themed cocktails, of green and gold and violet.
Trying to leave that all behind, he had said, and yet, to YJ it seemed he had simply dragged it all into a different venue, turned a spotlight on it, and commanded it to dance.
Perhaps that was how he gained control. They all had their ways.
He ordered the least alcoholic thing on the menu and smiled back at the girl next to him. Detective chatted up a young man who looked both confused and thrilled. And Arkham-
He had lost track of Arkham.
?~?~?~?~?
Edward slipped out of the crowd and into the kitchen, unnoticed by anyone save the cooks.
“Yeah, three of them!” he exclaimed into his phone. “This is getting outta hand. I know we thought somethin' like this might happen since that other Harley came through, but...any other 'you's' show up?”
The gravelly voice on the other end answered in the negative.
“Damn. I'm still not sure they're legit, or some mindfuck Sionis whipped up to run me off since he wants to claim this as his turf, even though it's obviously mine. Yeah I know he doesn't think it counts cause I stopped doin' the riddly thing, but that doesn't mean I gotta give up to some other asshole. Speaking of-!”
He spun to the side, deftly dodging the hand reaching out from behind him.
It was the big one, the one that had stayed quiet almost the whole time the pretty one was talking, just staring intensely. He was still staring, his chapped lips stretched into a thin smile.
“Hey! Employees only, dickfuck!” Edward snapped. “Get outta here!”
The smile widened, though it didn't seem to reach his icy eyes. Edward slipped his hand into his pocket in deceptive nonchalance. There was more in there than just his glittery vape.
“Shelby. Andrew. Scram.” he said, and the two cooks fled through the employee exit.
“Toldja I didn't want none of this.” he continued, his fingers threading through the fused rings of a set of knuckledusters. “So if Miss Marple out there sent you in to be the bulldog, they got another thing comin'.”
“Do you think they command me?” the other him asked, rough and sneering. “Have you chosen a leader already?”
“I didn't choose nothin'!”
“Really? Then why are you here, running a speakeasy? I'd call that a choice.”
Too close too close too close! The menacing Riddler slithered up on him like some grinning eel, right up in his face in open challenge.
“Back the fuck off, bruh.”
“Or what?” The larger Riddler reached for his face. He whipped his hand out of his pocket and smashed a fistful of brass across the other man's jaw. The man staggered, but drove his own fist into Edward's stomach. He was a lot stronger than Edward expected, and he doubled over, both men simultaneously struggling with and supporting each other. The other Riddler reached into his jacket in search of something Edward didn't give him the chance to find. He stomped down hard on he other mans foot, snatching a knife off the countertop as the larger man's greater weight dragged him down. Crouching over him like a wasp over a tarantula, Edward held the knife to his neck.
“Fuckin' warned you!” he snarled through teeth gritted so hard it hurt his jaw. “Could'a just fuckin' left me alone, I wanted to be left alone, could'a just bounced, but no! You had to fuck around, and now I gotta...I...”
A thin line of red at the edge of the blade, a string of scarlet seed beads on his stubbled throat. Edward flung the knife away.
“Still got it.” the older man mocked.
“Fuck you!” he hissed. “I was doing fine before you showed up! I was fine!”
“Were you really?” he backed away, and the older Riddler sat up. “Seems to me you're holding on by a thread. If the tiniest little push can break you down like that.”
“Shut the fuck up. What do you even want from me?”
“Do you have what it takes?”
“I told you, I'm leaving that behind!”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Then what the fuck did you mean?”
“Do you have. What it takes.”
“You know what, I don't fuckin' care. You can go be a creepy bitch out on the street. I'm officially kicking you out.”
The one with the mullet shoved his way into the kitchen.
“Hey, have you seen...Oh no.”
“Hey, good timing.” Edward said. “Collect your friend and get the fuck out, before I wreck his ass for real.”
“How will you do that?” the older Riddler challenged, inclining his head toward the knife under the table. “You've thrown away your advantage.”
“I can get another.” Edward threatened.
“Arkham, we said not to antagonize him!” the third Riddler groaned, exasperated. The older Riddler shrugged.
“Instructions unclear.” he said dismissively. “Besides, we can't leave now. He needs our help.”
“Like fuck I do.”
“I hear you've got a problem with the Roman.”
Edward sneered.
“Roman Sionis is a punk ass bitch who's just mad he got to the party late. Wants to prove he can be a big man in the masked crowd, but that ship has mostly sailed. So now he thinks he can be the only one in town, and tries to bully the rest of us. Just some upstart who doesn't know the rules.”
“You have rules?”
“You don't? Psh, doesn't surprise me.”
The older Riddler smiled that cold half-smile.
“I've got rules.”
The third Riddler helped the older fellow up.
“I'm sorry about him...”
“Don't you dare ever apologize for me, boy. You aren't that weak.” the older Riddler-Arkham-growled.
“Stop compromising my manners then.” the younger Riddler shot back. “We already said we weren't going to force him. I don't want you making liars of us.”
“Why, I did no such thing. I didn't even touch him until he attacked me.” Arkham said. The third Riddler flicked his umber gaze in Edward's direction.
Edward seethed. Goddamnit, it was true. The fucker had baited him, and he'd fallen for it. Practically jumped at it. He wanted to leave it all behind, but damn if he hadn't been ready to kill.
Damnit, did he have what it took?
“Hey, hold on.” he said. “Hypothetically speaking, if some wannabe crime boss with a black, skull shaped edgelord mask, like, say, Roman Sionis was breathing his gross breath down your neck, but you was trying real hard not to be a little murder gremlin, what would you do?”
Arkham grinned, and this time it reached his eyes.
“Well, that depends. Do I happen to have any friends who still embrace the 'murder gremlin' lifestyle? Am I willing to look the other way? All important questions.”
“Yeah. And what would that cost me?”
He continued smiling. Edward sighed.
“Tell Nancy Drew I'll have a sit down talk with them.”
The younger Riddler ushered Arkham out of the kitchen. Edward retrieved his phone.
“Harvey? Yeah, I'm fine. Hey listen, I'm gonna have to call you back, okay?”