questionauthority: (Under pressure)
Edward Nigma | The Riddler ([personal profile] questionauthority) wrote2011-08-04 10:29 pm

Riddle 031: Cats Always Land On Their Feet

[A: ACTION. The Kitchen of 726 Anderson Lane.

Well, that was probably the worst way to come off of a droning ever. Those of you who are still awake, you'll probably hear the Riddler rummaging about in the refrigerator. He finally emerges from it with a small bag of frozen peas, which he'll be placing over that black eye of his.]

[B: ACTION. Edward's personal study at 726 Anderson Lane.

Looks like Edward's gotten a package while he was out of it. Peeking into the box, he can see a bit of leather... It's a familiar violet catsuit, complete with a long tail, a mask with whiskers and ears, and a 12-foot long whip. No. No, there's no way they would seriously send this to him. Is this Mayfield's idea of a joke?]

[C: PHONE. (Filtered from Drones)]


Here's a question for you, Mayfield.

"What flies without wings?"

Answer: Time. Strange how it doesn't seem to fly at all when you've been droned. One second, it's the middle of July, then before you even realize it, it's August. What all have I missed, hmm? Any theories on what they'll throw at us this month?

[D. Then, he'll filter the call yet again, to Harley, Ivy, and Crane.]

Question: Is it uncommon for someone to regain something that doesn't belong to them?

[E: ACTION. Legion of Doom Headquarters.

Well, he's not going to try on Selina's catsuit yet, but that doesn't mean he can't have a little fun anyway. Eddie's hand curls around the grip of Catwoman's braided, leather bullwhip. Having set up a few cans around the long conference table, he'll crack the whip at them several times to see how many he'll be able to knock down.]

[identity profile] puzzlerprince.livejournal.com 2011-08-06 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
[Edward maintains the glare for a moment, then lowers the whip. Honestly, with the security systems and autoturrets that Klaus is in the process of installing, incomplete as they are, he could stand to threaten Schuldig a bit more. But he won't, for now. ...which means that now Schuldig knows all about the turret locations in this room. Crap.]

Your timing is impeccable. And for once, I mean that unironically. I'm going to need something from you.

[identity profile] have-your-lives.livejournal.com 2011-08-07 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
[Schuldig raises an eyebrow at this.] Are you now. Without even getting into what you'll need...why, exactly, would I give it to you? I assume you've got some sort of incentive to offer me.

[identity profile] puzzlerprince.livejournal.com 2011-08-11 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
It goes without saying that you would have something to gain, Schuldig. Knowledge. You'll be in on one of Mayfield's greatest secrets.

[identity profile] have-your-lives.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[Schuldig is briefly silent, eyes scanning Edward's face even as he telepathically sifts through the man's mind. Why play twenty questions finding out what Edward wants, and the reward he's being offered, when he can just find out for himself?

Eventually, he speaks again, after the pause - and his scrutiny - have had plenty of time to become uncomfortable.]
You do know I can just find out for myself and then not tell you, right?

[identity profile] puzzlerprince.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 09:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[Swallowing, once.] I'm well aware of that.

[identity profile] have-your-lives.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 09:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[Schuldig smirks at this, making himself more comfortable where he's leaning against the door frame.] Then I hope you have more to offer me than the fact that I'll end up knowing what you hope for me to find out...something I could get on my own, with no help from you.

Of course, if you don't...I could make some suggestions.

[identity profile] puzzlerprince.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 09:26 pm (UTC)(link)
...such as?

[He's not even sure he wants to hear these terms, but...]
Edited 2011-08-16 21:30 (UTC)

[identity profile] have-your-lives.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Your Legion. [Schuldig folds his arms over his chest.] I want in.

[The sad fact is that, with Schwarz gone, Schuldig has been alone and adrift, without allies. And it's dangerous to be so, especially in a place where sometimes telepathy alone isn't enough. But Edward's Legion...there aren't many other groups that would suit him quite so well as this one, and Edward is perhaps one of the foremost people in Mayfield capable of recognizing his worth to the group. Despite their rivalry, appealing to him for membership is probably the best possible way to get in.

Of course, he's not going to be just another mook in their ranks...]
Equal partners, of course. Don't think I'm going to let you lord over me.

[identity profile] puzzlerprince.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Partners?!

[Schuldig wants to join the Legion of Doom. And he wants that much power from the start? ...no, that's out of the question. Although... well, he'd be lying if he were to say that an ally like Schuldig wouldn't prove advantageous for the Legion. Still. This is the man who's antagonized Edward on numerous occasions in the past. Who's tortured Ema in who-knows-how-many-ways. ...perhaps he can put a stop to all of it by allowing Schuldig membership. After taking a moment to consider, he replies.]

You want to be partners? On two conditions. First. You're going to have to tell me what I want to know. No tricks. No lies. No questions asked. And second... you're going to stay away from her. Far away. Understood?
Edited 2011-08-16 22:15 (UTC)

[identity profile] have-your-lives.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[The first condition doesn't actually bother him much...especially since he chooses to interpret it as meaning this situation in particular, rather than a permanent condition of their partnership. The second, however, prompts a raised eyebrow.] That's a lot to ask when I'm forced to live with her. I suggest you rephrase your terms to something I can actually do without getting droned.