Edward Nygma | The Riddler (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
questionslinger) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
batsignals2013-10-30 11:26 pm
questionslinger) wrote in batsignals2013-10-30 11:26 pm
A Starter Plot
Cue the spotlights, the noise, the cacophony of the crowd below. Another million dollar charity gala, another night in Gotham. One Edward Nygma enjoys the view from a neighboring building, as he waits for the major celebrities and notables to shuffle in an bask in fame's hotlight glow; Bruce Wayne, Vicki Vale, the usual suspects on the A List.
Edward was also on the guest list, after all, so he would make his dutiful appearance in good time, just as soon as the right B-list local came before him so he could steal their share of the spotlight.
Once the A's were arrived, a couple of B's trickled in and took up the outdoor carpet; exactly what he wanted them to do. Edward made his way through the neighboring building, popped the lock on the side entrance to the event center hosting the gala, and went through side halls that he remembered from a smokey piece of his personal fiction, his shattered memories bringing up a robbery, perhaps, or some other event he couldn't quite put his finger on but told him he'd done this before, been here once.
Didn't matter; his past was unimportant in the context of the evening.
He shrugged out if his jacket as he walked, reversing it as he did to reveal the brilliant green he was known for and took out his bowler, putting it at a jaunty angle on his brow. Suddenly, everyone realized he'd somehow skipped the main entrance an was right there with the big names, smiling and shaking hands like it was natural.
Edward Nygma was born performer. Domino mask in deep purple on, he hobnobbed his way through the gala, and finally reached his mark; Bruce Wayne.
"A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Wayne," he said in his most bombastic manner, offering his hand and reaching for Bruce's arm for a most congenial handshake. He leaned in, green eyes bright beyond the film in his mask that protected his eyes -- he'd had trouble with bright lights since the bomb blast some months ago from the Conundrum Killer that had been stealing his shtick. But for a brief moment he was earnest. "If I could have moment of your time after the dinner, I'd be much obliged. A client of mine has some difficulties with an old friend of yours, and I'm told you still have sway with him."
Edward was also on the guest list, after all, so he would make his dutiful appearance in good time, just as soon as the right B-list local came before him so he could steal their share of the spotlight.
Once the A's were arrived, a couple of B's trickled in and took up the outdoor carpet; exactly what he wanted them to do. Edward made his way through the neighboring building, popped the lock on the side entrance to the event center hosting the gala, and went through side halls that he remembered from a smokey piece of his personal fiction, his shattered memories bringing up a robbery, perhaps, or some other event he couldn't quite put his finger on but told him he'd done this before, been here once.
Didn't matter; his past was unimportant in the context of the evening.
He shrugged out if his jacket as he walked, reversing it as he did to reveal the brilliant green he was known for and took out his bowler, putting it at a jaunty angle on his brow. Suddenly, everyone realized he'd somehow skipped the main entrance an was right there with the big names, smiling and shaking hands like it was natural.
Edward Nygma was born performer. Domino mask in deep purple on, he hobnobbed his way through the gala, and finally reached his mark; Bruce Wayne.
"A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Wayne," he said in his most bombastic manner, offering his hand and reaching for Bruce's arm for a most congenial handshake. He leaned in, green eyes bright beyond the film in his mask that protected his eyes -- he'd had trouble with bright lights since the bomb blast some months ago from the Conundrum Killer that had been stealing his shtick. But for a brief moment he was earnest. "If I could have moment of your time after the dinner, I'd be much obliged. A client of mine has some difficulties with an old friend of yours, and I'm told you still have sway with him."
Of course, the last "old friend" Edward had dealt with was Hush-- and he remembered Thomas Elliott better than he liked; the stiffness in his right hand, the scars on his cheekbone... all gifts from Hush's 'healing' hands. This could be trouble.