"Your suit is really green!" The little red haired girl stared up at him with wide, blue and brown speckled eyes. "Like grass! Or, umm...em'ralds!" She nodded firmly, convinced that was right. "My Papa likes green. Do you like green?" (From Essi)
He's dreaming again. It's not a very nice dream though. He's battered and bruised from head to toe, being dragged across a cold hard floor before being flung unceremoniously into an equally unpleasant cell even smaller than his usual one. He's back in Arkham. Again. Having been defeated by Batman. Again. The lights go out, leaving him in the sort of darkness where you can just about barely make out your surroundings, not that there's much to look at other than a thin strip of light from a door far too small for him to get out of. Edward sits up, brushing himself off as he patently waits for the dream to be over. He's had this one before and it's not pleasant, ending only when the cell starts shrinking so much it's like getting caught in one of his own death traps all the while hearing laughter ringing outside. Except, this time, that doesn't happen. This time there is a knock at the door, a small one made by small, almost shy hands. Crawling over on hands and knees, Edward goes to open it, finding it unlocked much to his surprise. What's more surprising is the visitor on the other side. A little girl with red hair and odd eyes none too different from his own. No child he's ever seen before, which makes it all the stranger why she's here, but he'll take it over the usual getting-crushed-to-death part. That part always had him wake up drenched in cold sweat, shaking and nauseous.
"It is green, isn't it?" Edward laughs, looking down at his suit. Gone is the badly-made jumpsuit Arkham forces all her inmates to wear, the scratchy grey fabric replaced by a smooth, verdant cut of wildest green. He feels more like himself again, not nearly so small now despite still being trapped in this tiny cell. It's a reminder that he's the Riddler, that no matter what happened, he always had a plan. Edward looks back at the girl, deciding that he liked her, whoever she was. "You're right again. I do like green. It's always been my favourite colour as lots of nice things are that colour, like grass or those emeralds you mention. Do you like green too? Like your papa?" He feels almost silly asking, talking to her like she's a real child. He knows none of this is real, that he's only dreaming but what harm could any of this bring? At least until he woke back up, and would forget all about this.
