#askthatenigmaticpimp

[eelmojis]

I am gonna be able to draw this nerd until the day I die I swear it I could draw him in my goddamn sleep

[realityhelix-blog]

Satin Soul, Silver Tongue// A playlist for askthatenigmaticpimp, the ex-Riddler who now primarily steals hearts.

1. Arisen Anew-Tensei-san/ 2. Applause-Lady Gaga/ 3. Courtesy-Chipzel/ 4. Time of the Season-The Zombies/ 5. Take Me Out-Franz Ferdinand/ 6. Time on My Side-Joren de Bruin/ 7. Blow(Deconstructed)-Ke$Ha/ 8. We All Sleep Alone-Cher/ 9. My Own Worst Enemy-Casting Crowns/ 10. Unite Synchronization-Malcom Brown/ 11. Shake it off(cover)-Postmodern Jukebox/ 12. Shut Up and Dance-Walk The Moon

Listen

Art by Cardwrecks.

[realityhelix-blog]

Side One

He hadn’t known. How could he have known? Helix never spoke about the particulars of her past, making only broad statements, and giving details only about little slices of life. He didn’t know that her culture didn’t celebrate the Fourth in the same way his did. He kept taking it for granted that the United States were fairly similar across the multiverse.

He hadn’t known the fireworks would elicit this reaction.

She trembled in his arms, hands covering her head as the explosions rocked through the sky, and he embraced her protectively, not knowing the source of the problem at first. Then the portals began opening all around the building, and it was a scramble to get her off the roof, and into the safe quiet downstairs before she pulled the entire club into another dimension.

He knew Helix suffered PTSD. How could someone watch their entire universe die in front of them and not feel the trauma? But he had never seen it manifest like this before. He had never seen her magic activate involuntarily, hadn’t even known that could happen. He sequestered her in his own empty bedroom, doing everything he could think of to calm her, hoping the crowd outside would think it was all a part of the show, and wouldn’t touch any of the portals.

Eventually water, a blanket, and gentle murmuring brought her back to him, and he let her cry out before she began to talk.

Everything beautiful about the sky had been ruined for her. That was the direction of death. The destruction had come in the form of glorious auroras, and rainbow explosions, as her reality had been torn apart. She couldn’t look at colors in the sky, couldn’t hear fireworks without seeing it all over again.

A quick check showed that somehow, the citizens of Gotham had all exercised caution in relation to the mysterious holes in reality, and none had disappeared into another world. He left them to their revelry to find Helix in the kitchen, preparing a meal. She told him that it made her feel safer, more normal. He wouldn’t argue. He would eat what she made, say what she needed to hear, and keep locked in his mind that some lights burn without ever healing.

[realityhelix-blog]

Swag and Bruce

“Name the date and time, I will be there early. Heck yes!”

[realityhelix-blog]

Lygari and Swag

“…Yes, I would give this a try. It might be interesting. I’m not entirely sure about Lygari just yet, but if her were to give me any trouble well…Swag has a left hook like you would not believe, and then there’s all the things I can do.”

[realityhelix-blog]

Valentines Dance

Swag knew Helix didn't like for him to spend much money on her more that once or twice a year. Despite the fact that she was a powerful sorceress, with her own world, in no danger of starving, and a lifestyle that could easily be described as "comfortable", she was still very conscious of money. Meaning embarrassed by it. Meaning embarrassed by having very little of it. He'd tried to press raises upon her, multiple times, tried to give her more hours in the tiny restaurant in the back of the club. She'd refused it all, and with very good reasons each time.

Well, nothing said he couldn't spend money on himself, for her sake. Dance lessons-her kind of dance. The highly energetic Lindy Hop, Toddled Foxtrot, and a variety of other trots, hops, walks, and steps that all came together to make up what he thought of as "swing". He'd learned a lot about music and dance history, and learned that his moderate height and slim frame were well suited to them.

There was also the lingerie. He'd caught her looking over his designs with great interest, and he knew she would accept a set designed just for her, expensive materials or not. She liked hobbies that had a "practical" outcome, even if the pieces he'd designed for her were anything but.

And so, when she came by later that night, he would be able to match her, step for step, and he would be able to dress her up-or rather, down-like he loved to, and she wouldn't have to feel any discomfort for it.

It took a little extra effort, but seeing no waver in her smile was worth it.

[realityhelix-blog]

A Valentine Aside

Swag didn't know for sure how the plant had gotten inside his club, as it was the only living green thing in there. He was a man known for his green clothes, not his green thumb.

But just because he didn't know for sure, did not mean he couldn't guess with 99.9% accuracy. The plant was an orchid, and there were heart shaped cookies with pink icing, and a card. Helix, of course. He picked up the card to read whatever sweet message she had left for him, but the name written there was not his. His eyebrows crept ever closer to his hair as he set the card down, and walked very deliberately away from UnSwag's valentine.

[realityhelix-blog]

Finding the Gotham Orchid Society had been child's play: they were very enthusiastic people, eager to welcome new members and free with information. This was far from the image he had of people who were part of anything labeled a "society": dried up, pompous old sticks, jealous of each other, and using their collections for a status boost to hold over each other.

Of course, Helix didn't use her orchids like that, but Helix was Helix, and therefore exempt.

Finding the societies recommended local distributor was less straightforward. He saw people only by appointment, and kept his plants in one of the vast network of Gothams storage caves. That struck Swag as odd. Didn't orchids need tropical conditions? Wouldn't it be far more difficult to grow them in a cave?

Nevertheless, Gothams orchid society was one of the largest and most well respected in the country, according to them anyway, and they all recommended this one grower as the favored local supplier. So he set up his appointment, found the cave, and hoped there would be something unique enough to serve as a proper gift.

What he found was a stunning world of unending color, tightly controlled light, heavy humidity, and a surprising lack of the parboiling temperatures he had expected. In fact, it was downright breezy.

His guide had quite a lot of information on the proper climactic conditions for many orchids, which Swag paid little attention to, assuming Helix would already know. He was dazzled by the blossoms all around him, the fantastic colors and shapes, each more spectacular than the last. But which one was fantastic enough for Helix? It had to be something special, and something unmistakeably from him.

A turned corner, a parting of leaves, and there it was. The most wonderfully bizarre flower, something he would never have imagined in his most drunken dreams. It was so many colors; red, maroon, yellow, cream, and green. It was mottled, speckled, netted, and veined. Its petals were ruffled, scalloped, twisted, and curled. Even its thick, leaf topped canes looked unique to him. It was fantastic. It was perfect. It was more expensive than he expected a plant to be. It was worth it.

He decided to deliver it immediately, instead of waiting for Christmas day. What if it somehow died during the two days it would be in his care? No, no, it had to go now. Luckily, Helix had affixed a permanent door between her home and his, one that opened directly either way, bypassing that weird between world area. She knew it gave him the heebee jeebies right down to his soul.

But her world, though strange, was warm and welcoming, and she always seemed to know when he had arrived. Now was no exception;  she appeared seemingly out of the plants themselves, parting a screen of vines with tiny red flowers to greet him. She stared in surprise at the plant in his arms.

"Edward," she breathed, "That is dendrobium spectabile!" The obvious delight in her voice told him that he had been absolutely right, and she gave him an impromptu present of her own, one that lasted into the early morning hours.