eddie likes to (riddlethem) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-10-31 10:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | ariadne, riddler |
Who: Riddler and Ariadne
When: About a week ago
Where: Through the Inception door with dream having
What: Sharing dreams with Riddler. Good idea? Bad idea? How about a mix of both.
Warnings: Nothing really.
Sadie acted as if she was still possessed by Zelda’s ghost. She skipped classes, drank herself silly and verbally assaulted anything that dared to puncture her fairy circle of reality. Riddler had seen her crazy, sometimes even encouraged it, but with his own spirits so low he simply couldn’t keep up. So, she dragged him around. Forced him to figure numbers and equations to win them more and more money at any casino that wasn’t already wary of her. The little idiot was eating his soul up, either due to some end of the world maddening streak or a true acceptance of everything she was saddled with. She was so close to her broken namesake it scared him a little. He wanted a partner, not a blood thirsty hound.
But, despite the newfound outlook on life, she still let him visit with this strange girl who could build dreams. Maybe Sadie had her reasons, but Eddie didn’t care what they were. He just needed a break from the stink of Gotham. When the door to dreamers opened, he stepped through looking surprisingly normal for once. No green to be found in his blue jeans, white button up shirt and thin, thin black tie. His dark hair was left to fall where it wanted in a mess that matched a sensitive genius who might teach a class on theoretical physics or run the numbers in the back of political campaign.
For all the insisting that he was fine, he didn’t look it. His expression was uncharacteristically morose and serious, eyes dark and troubled with visions she couldn’t see, mouth pulled tight in an attempt to fight back any emotion that could possibly give him away. There was still youth in his brow and the way he put his hands in his pockets, but he still appeared to have seen much more than anyone his age could have possibly experienced. He offered Ariadne a smile. Another young girl. He thought, not surprised but a little cautious.
She didn’t know anything about Eddie, but that was okay with her. She wasn’t going to go looking for any reason to push him away, particularly after what she’d done to him at the party. Ariadne still felt badly about tearing off the coin slot off his chest so showing him the PASIV and the dream world was the least she could do. Of course, just because she was willing to risk her own safety didn’t mean she was willing to risk anyone else’s. The PASIV they usually kept at the warehouse was moved to her apartment just a few blocks from school, leaving only a sticky note in it’s place. She hadn’t talked much to anyone after the party, but she didn’t often talk to them anyway and it was the party that made her realize what the likely cause of it was. With Mal gone from Cobb’s mind, he was more than capable of designing the levels of the dream himself and Arthur was still quite the architect. He’d taught her a great deal after all.
She preferred to feel useful and since she wasn’t capable of defending herself as well as the others, it was a risk to take her in. You could just ask them to teach you, came the all too familiar voice in the back of her head. Ariadne knew that she could, but given everything they were dealing with (Cobb with Mal, Arthur with Eames and not knowing if any of this was real), it just didn’t seem as important. Particularly since they weren’t going on jobs. She pushed those thoughts from her mind though, wanting to enjoy her time with Eddie in the hopes that maybe she’d make a new friend out of that wretched party.
At the appointed time, she opened the door to the hotel and welcomed him inside. She was dressed in jeans, a cream colored blouse, and a dark navy sweater, her brunette hair falling down to her shoulders in gentle waves. “Hi,” she greeted warmly, shutting the door behind him before offering a hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Eddie.”
He shook her hand and managed to keep his flimsy smile long enough to seem pleasant. It would have been strange for anyone that was used to his glowing hat and purple glasses to see him in such a simple outfit with simple pleasantries, but that was the beauty of making outside friends. She didn’t know who he was or where he was from and it was good that it suited the both of them just fine. “I know I seem different.” His voice was soft and gentle, dashing even without his coin-operated programming. “But, that’s a good thing, right?” He warmed up a little, looking around the hotel.
“I’ve seen your movie. Or rather, my girl let me watch it with her.” There was a familiarity about her world. The same shades of blue, the same dark, sleek colors. “Tell me about your life before you built mazes.” He looked at her again, eyes more focused and intrigued.
The good, and perhaps bad, thing about her was that she honestly didn’t know a thing about him. She’d never read comics, too lost in her history books growing up, and she’d stuck to her studies for most of her life, befriending people with equally analytical minds who enjoyed the same kinds of things she did. The University in Paris had been a home away from home for her and the city itself was absolutely stunning. The location also provided her with multiple opportunities to travel and see some of the remnants of cities long gone when she had the time to spare. Paris had also introduced her to the idea of sharing dreams, gave her a taste of pure creation, and sharing that was certain to make her feel useful.
“I’m glad you’re you instead of being at the whims of the operator,” Ariadne replied honestly, taking a few moments to really study his features. He was a little older than she’d expected, a little more worn around the edges, but she held onto the hope that what she could show him would cheer him up. “It was very odd, watching it and seeing the things I had missed simply because I wasn’t there. It’s an expertly crafted tale just...a bit hard to swallow that it isn’t real when the whole point of what they do is to make it seem so perfectly real.” It was easy to see why Arthur would get lost in it, why he’d struggle so desperately, but she couldn’t let herself go down that path. She’d rather accept that her world was hers through the door then wonder if didn’t matter if she lived or died because she’d only come back again.
Ariadne led him over to the small sitting area and took a seat on the couch, closest to the armrest so that he’d have the option of sitting in the chair just next to it or on the other end of the couch. Everything about her private space seemed to be very classic in style, clean lines with a very natural color palette. It was quiet, peaceful, and there were a few eclectic pieces here and there to give it a sense of personality. “I’ve always been very analytical. I loved the mazes in these activity books my parents would get for me to color in. Even if it was the same maze, I wanted to do it over and over again. I’d get bored though, as every kid does, and I started to make my own.” She smiled at the memory. “I was awful at first, and the mazes were so easy. My parents really helped me flourish though. I’ve gotten puzzle books on every birthday and holiday for as long as I can remember. I started to fall in love with architecture when I came to Paris for the first time. I was 16 and my father had been asked to give a lecture at the Louvre. He specializes in art restoration from the 17th Century, and it was over Thanksgiving, so they flew the three of us out and we spent four days there. While my father was lecturing, my mother and I went on a tour around the city and it was just...” she trailed off, looking for the right word. “It was beautiful, and I knew I wanted to see more. Everything just sort of fell into place after that.”
Ariadne had been lost in the memory for a brief moment, but she shook herself out of it. “What about you? Where are you from?” She was curious, but she wouldn’t push if he didn’t want to talk about it.
The living area honestly reminded him of the Arkham medical wing. Everything so neat, orderly and with purpose. Only, in Arkham you could see the paint peeling, the blood stains on the floor and the steel bars to keep you from escaping. It was the kind of place that instinctively made him want to write question marks all over the walls. “You wouldn’t know where I’m from.” He said simply, knowing a girl like her might have been nerdy, but not the kind who would pick up a comic book. Most people had heard of the Riddler, after all, but there were so many versions of him running around it was hard to specify. Besides, telling a girl he was on the top five of most wanted criminals in Gotham wasn’t exactly the smartest thing for him to do.
“But, you’re lucky to have such supportive parents.” He said, a seriousness on his brow that didn’t match his words. “My father didn’t believe I could possibly be so good at trivia and puzzles, so he insisted I cheated.” Riddler left out any mention of beating. It tended to bring him sympathy that he didn’t want or completely trust. “But, I managed to keep fighting through it. Once you fall in love with a passion like mazes or information, it doesn’t go away.”
Ariadne nodded, unwilling to push about something that honestly didn’t even matter to her. He seemed nice, certainly not a homicidal maniac, and she owed it to him to give him the opportunity to see what it was like in the dream world. When he mentioned his father, she couldn’t help but frown. Unsupportive parents was a concept she simply couldn’t fathom, despite knowing plenty of people with childhoods vastly different from her own. “I’m sorry to hear that you weren’t supported growing up,” she replied, reaching for his hand. “But I can help make up for that, I think. Dreamsharing is...well. There’s nothing like it. You can create to your heart’s content,” she explained, a faint smile on her lips. “Or until my subconscious kills you for changing too much. It’s okay though. You’ll wake up back here if that happens. We can go under as many times as you’d like.”
Maybe it was a bit much, to be so accommodating, but it would be fine. She was sure of it. With another smile, she got up to retrieve the PASIV, placing it on the coffee table between them. She’d gotten the hang of it with Arthur and Cobb, how to work the device, so it was with deft movements that she started to prepare the machine. “This device allows us to dream together, but you probably already know the gist of it if you’ve seen the movie,” she corrected herself, a bit sheepishly. She didn’t want to bore him. “Do you want me to?” she asked, holding up the line that would need to be connected to his arm, indicating that was what she meant.
He watched the machine closely, knowing that it couldn’t be replicated in his world and he’d need at least some hands on time with it in order to build himself one. Riddler was greedy for technology, a knee-jerk reaction to seeing the new best thing. Though, the things he could gain from it seemed a little too close to something the movie version of himself would attempt. Even if this was rather elegantly simple. He rolled up his sleeve and took a seat next to the device. Silently watching and soaking up as much as he could about how this even worked.
Ariadne wasn't thinking about the potential dangers of exposing someone to the PASIV, thinking Eddie was like her, someone who couldn't grasp the science on a deep enough level to really understand it. Yusuf had explained it when he was explaining the sedative he'd created for them but it was all chemistry and science, things she preferred to leave to the experts. With a smile, she knelt at his side and carefully pressed the needle where it needed to go. A piece of gauze and a small bit of tape held it down and then she was doing her own.
"The PASIV has a chemical in it that allows anyone hooked up to it to dream together. We can pick who's dream we go into, which makes it perfect for espionage. Arthur said it started as a government program designed to let soldiers go through real life simulations, where they could die without really dying. I'm not sure if it's still used today," she explained as she got herself set up. "Ready?" she asked warmly, hand already reaching for the device to set the time limit of five minutes. At his go ahead, she pressed the button and down the rabbit hole they went.
The next moment, they were standing in the hotel she'd designed for the team's final meeting before the job. It was a very modern structure, with a glass front and wide open spaces. The wood was all light colored and the place had a rather warm feel to it. She smiled fondly, recalling the compliment Cobb had given her. "What do you think?" She asked Eddie.
Riddler didn’t expect the transition between the real world and a dream to be so seamless, but that’s what happened when he fell asleep normally, right? He walked around a little, running his hands over the very real feeling furniture and walls. It was impressive, though most dreams felt real didn’t they? “And, you can manipulate it? To a point?” That’s what truly interested him. Entering dreams was something a mystic from his door could do, but changing them- creating illusions. That was different entirely.
“It’s near limitless,” she corrected, and she used ‘near’ because she wasn’t entirely sure. “Here,” she offered, gesturing for him to follow her up the grand staircase. “I designed this building in its entirety. The people you see, they are my subconscious. They feel the changes that you might make and they realize something’s wrong. They’ll try to find the one making all the changes, the intruder, and they kill you.” Cobb had explained after she’d drawn attention to herself on the scale that got Mal involved. Just remembering that was painful, but she pushed it away. They walked along a thin staircase, up around in a square, but she used the trick Arthur had taught her, so that it was a closed loop. “I can create the base of the maze and then design it to something that has specific meaning to the target, like the hospital compound as the last layer in the dream levels for Fischer.” It was actually nice to be able to discuss this with someone who had most of the background knowledge. “Go ahead,” she offered. “Change things.” Ariadne was more than a little interested in what he would come up with.
What she didn’t know, what he didn’t even know, was that an invitation to change things in a maze would open up a part of him the coin-operated boy tried to shut down. He smiled to himself, his teeth pressing down on his lower lip as he subconsciously did his best to suppress that Gotham kind of enthusiasm. He grabbed her hand suddenly, his coat turning a deep shade of green as he started leading her out of the lobby and deeper into the hotel. “Kill me, you say.” There was a significant change in his voice. It was bright, brilliant like a fresh lightbulb in the middle of a dark basement. If Riddler had been born in this world, he’d have been the perfect architect. He had the mind for puzzles, for programming, for dead ends and misleading bread crumbs. Even if Edward walked into this for just a simple demonstration, Riddler couldn’t help but show what he could do.
He lifted his hand and the walls turned to a rusted brown plaster of a subway that had been abandoned for decades. The hallway narrowed and he turned to look at her, now in that classic green suit from the 60’s. Bowler hat tilted devilishly. Black mask. Question marks up his sleeves and down the seams of his pants. He wore it so naturally it looked like it was bound to him. Even if she had just the smallest inkling of the Batman comic, she’d know exactly who she was dealing with. “Then I guess we’re going to have to make this fast. I want to show you something.” At the end of the dimming, narrow hallway there was a manhole. He pulled off the heavy cover with some effort and climbed in, sliding down the metal ladder into a damp, empty tunnel.
Ariadne started to second guess herself in that moment. It seemed like she had flipped a switch in him, that suddenly he wasn't really Eddie anymore, and that scared her. She was too surprised to make any attempt at releasing her hand from his grasp as he pulled her deeper into the hotel. This was such a bad idea, wasn't it? Arthur was going to kill her. Amazement cut through the growing panic as he deftly changed the scenery to that of a decrepit, run down subway. It reminded her of New York. "This is amaze-" she started, turnin to look at him. When she saw his get up, she gasped. One would've had to live under a rock to not make the connection. "The Riddler?" She breathed, surprised and unsure all at once. Arthur was definitely going to kill her.
He was moving though, something about needing to show her quickly, but Ariadne just stood there, trying to piece together what was going on. At least they were only in a dream. She just needed to make sure she woke up first, and alert, in case he tried to hurt her. It was the sound of the manhole hitting the floor that jarred her from her thoughts. He was disappearing into the tunnel and what choice did she have? Ariadne took a deep breath and followed him down.
“The one and only.” He didn’t feel like the Riddler until now, in this dream that moved like numbers and code on a computer. It was as natural as he guessed it would be, even if parts of his own subconscious seemed to be bubbling to the surface. “Sorry for the deception.” The man in green turned to look at her, a smile that was a mix of something a magician and a game show host might have. He had tricks and answers up his sleeves, all for the sake of entertainment. He touched one of the damp walls of the tunnel and it lit up in green lights like someone had lost all their Christmas lights down there.
“I thought this part of me broke at the party. But, the chance to create-” He fell silent glancing over his changed appearance. It felt more natural to appear like this, which was something only a person in Gotham could really understand. Finally, he looked up at her and flashed a smile that was so far from the coin-operated boy’s plastic affection it was almost comforting. His eyes might have been a little wild, his expression something out of a Batman comic, but he didn’t seem dangerous. Or at least, as least dangerous as a crazy man could be. If crazy was what you wanted to call this. “Trust me, just this once. I promise you won’t be disappointed. Come with me.”
She was going to have to apologize to so many people. He seemed alive, so much more so than the Coin-Operated Boy had and she wondered if the dreamworld that was helping him would spell disaster for his world. She hoped not. She'd only been trying to help. Ariadne didn't know much of anything about the Riddler, only that he was a villain of Batman fame and nothing like the Joker. Everyone knew the Joker. She shivered at the thought. It had been stupid of her to be so trusting.
But in looking at him, she honestly didn't think he would hurt her. He reminded her a little of a kid on Christmas morning, eager to go downstairs and open the gifts Santa had left for him. Plus, it seemed really important to him, so she nodded. "Okay. We have maybe 20 minutes before we'll wake up on our own," she cautioned, stepping closer to him.
“Perfect.” He tipped his hat and then took her hand again, fingers lacing with hers as he took off in a brisk walk down the tunnel. As they went, it started to curve a little, sometimes even angling up or down as he spent his time calculating and building the surprise for her. Normally, he didn’t have the luxury of time for his own puzzles. They were built out of chains, barbed wire, saws he found in lumberyards. But, this was different. He had all the tools and materials he could ever want to instantly put together something that could even defy logic or gravity.
The end of the tunnel glowed faintly with a golden light and the sound of some old fashioned brass band floated towards them. The smell of fresh, buttery popcorn, of roasted peanuts and sticky sweet treats overwhelmed their senses. At first it seemed to be the hinting of a typical circus dream that any child could have, but once the tunnel opened up to reveal what he had made for her, it seemed to be something entirely more complex than anything like that.
Below them was a mechanical, brass circus that seemed cleverly hidden in a great underground cave. The edges of the circus looked like a music box. Tigers made out of pipes and clockwork clawing at the bars of their cages, prize booths run by faceless machines in green striped shirts, snack stands that steamed and crackled with fresh treats being made. Giant Ferris wheels and teacup rides rotating and spinning in unison with the music. No patrons played the games or looked at the animals. In fact, it was all but empty besides the machines running the place. But, what was truly amazing, what he had brought her here to see, was the towering globe puzzle in the very middle. Decorated in gold metal and green fabric, it seemed to be a tight accumulation of stairs, doorways, windows and walkways. A maze that wasn’t simply roadblocks, but platforms that rotated and dipped with the tick of gears and springs. In order to get to the top, it seemed to take not just the ability to jump at the right time, but see three or four steps ahead.
“See that at the top.” He pointed to the top of the globe where a bright, green light shone in the shape of a question mark. “That’s what my fans call a Riddler trophy.”
Ariadne couldn't help the smile that came from how excited he seemed to be to show her whatever it was he'd created. He took her hand and led her down the tunnel. The smells alone had her curious. If he'd picked a place that was populated with her subconscious...Ariadne looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see people clamouring down the ladder they'd used. There was no one and she wasn't sure if that scared her more. And if she stepped a little closer to Riddler, held on a little tighter, well she wasn't going to think about that.
They reached the opening to the cavern and her breath caught in her throat. He was brilliant, and she'd only seen the globe puzzle. Her eyes swept over the rest of the circus and there was no denying she was impressed. She stuck to realism in every form but he created the impossible. She stepped forward, wanting to examine the puzzle more closely. "A Riddler trophy?" It was just a light. She didn't give it much thought as she approached, studying it, looking for patterns in its movement, a way through the maze.
It was possible that Riddler’s mind could cook up something like this because it was so far away from reality. He saw patterns that others couldn’t, dreamt up stories and mazes that belonged in fairytale books and saw everything as one elaborate game. If what made him crazy also brought out the brilliance and beauty of his mind, then how could he really think of denying it? “Where I’m from, a trophy earns you a secret or a favor. If you can get to the top of that maze before we wake up or something kills me, I’ll give you both.” He smiled down at her, leading her through the circus towards the sphere puzzle.
He let go of her hand and pointed along the entrance of the puzzle. “I’ll give you a hint, sometimes you have to fall back to spring forward.” Above them, the moving platforms seemed to reset themselves, and with a swell of music from the band playing in the distance, wounded back into motion. It was good that she had limited time, because the puzzle itself took a lot of quick thinking. Sometimes a platform would move under a staircase to rotate upwards or a walkway would cut off before appearing somewhere else along the line. But, it wasn’t anything beyond her abilities or what he believed she was capable of.
She thought it was kind of trivial thing, a secret or a favor, but it was a prize and even though she was more interested in solving the puzzle, it was an interesting incentive. "Okay," she replied, agreeing. She took a deep breath and then stepped forward, immediately moving onto the next platform, which led up to a staircase. She took the steps two at a time before she was cut off by a platform that was sweeping under. Half a second, not even, but she decided and took the risk, side stepping off the stairs and onto the platform. It was headed for another staircase though and she didn't have much time. There weren't any options forward, that she could see at least, and then she remembered his advice. Trusting him, she took a step back and she dropped a foot, if that, onto a platform that was rising up. Grinning, she looked over her shoulder, down to where he was, only for a second, before continuing forward.
Riddler stood at the bottom of the maze. His maze. A perfect, strange thing that couldn’t exist anywhere but here, and smiled up at her. He turned to grab a bag of popcorn from an empty food cart and tossed a couple pieces into his mouth. It was strange, he had spent sixty years, sixty strange, changing, paperback years trying to show Batman what was in his head. Sometimes the Dark Knight got it, but he never really enjoyed it. Never enjoyed anything, really. Maybe there was a mutual respect over the years between the two men, but not one of the bat brats marveled at his creations like Ariadne did. This was who he was, under all the crime and insanity. A strange logic puzzle that shouldn’t work, but somehow it did.
“Just a little farther!” He cheered her on, turning to see a small crowd of people climb down the tunnel after them. So, her subconscious had caught up after all. He smiled at them, unafraid of the death they’d want to tear out of him. Knowing that she could make it to the top before they could even lay their hands on him.
It was a race of the best kind and she was oblivious to her subconscious catching up to them. She was racing against the clock, determined to beat his puzzle because she knew she could. That kind of confidence had been lacking lately, an unfortunate casualty in the tug or war that was Arthur and Eames, Cobb and Mal. She didn't have a place here, with them. She didn't have the contacts necessary, or the skills (let's be honest) to go on a solo job, and the others were too busy to do jobs as far as she knew. Or they just didn't want a tag along. Ariadne pushed away the distractions, climbing upwards, moving forward. She would reach the top.
It was all instinct that carried her, with no time to second guess herself. The closer she got, the more quickly things moved. Twice, she had to fall back again to move forward and she was close. So close. Time was slipping away though and she knew she needed to move. "Almost," she muttered to herself as she hauled herself up the last platform. She just needed to reach, just a little. Ariadne extended her arm as far as she could, wiggled her fingers to get a little closer, but it wasn't enough. There was a gap, one she shouldn't have worried too much about, but she did. It was a force of habit, she supposed. Still, she could feel the gears still moving. Something was coming. She just jumped and then she was bathed in that green light. Victory! Ariadne looked for Riddler, only to see her subconscious surrounding him. "No!" But before she could so much as jump, she was back in her apartment, back on the couch.
Riddler saw her make the jump for the trophy, but in a second three different hands reached out for the lapels of his suit to pull him to the ground. “No! She just got to the-” He struggled to try and get back on his feet, but a sea of hands and faces strangled and crushed him to the hay covered ground. In an instant, he awoke in her apartment, breathing heavily as if stirred from a nightmare. “Okay, I’ll give your subconscious credit. That last bit scared the bejeezus out of me.” He laughed and looked over at her, the weight of all he revealed in the dream suddenly bearing down on his mind. Here, back in the real world, he didn’t quite look like he was capable of being that masked quiz master. There was still that fire behind his eyes, reignited by the dream, but his clothes and the way he seemed almost concerned for her didn’t scream Batman Villain.
“Did you get it?” He asked softly. Smiling sheepishly as he carefully took the wiring off his arms.
It was a relief to see that he was okay and she gave him a small smile in return. "Yea, it varies based on the person. I was stabbed the first time around. It's...not the most pleasant," she replied, removing the wiring and folding up the PASIV. "Do you want something to drink?" She offered, hoping it might ease the shock a bit. When he asked if she had gotten the question mark, she grinned. "I did. It took me a minute to jump, but it was the only way to get up there. That was...amazing. You're brilliant," she complimented warmly.
You haven't seriously forgotten that he's Riddler, have you? Ariadne frowned at Bianca's tone and ignored her. "Eddie, are you..." But she didn't know how to ask, exactly, if what had happened, who he showed her, was real, so she didn't. Instead, she shook her head and dropped the question. "There's nothing like it. And what you did, creating everything from metal and pipes!" She was impressed.
He returned a warm smile and stretched his arms above his head before relaxing them on his lap. “Yes, tea if you have it.” Riddler was a tea kind of man. He used to be the only one brave enough to have a tea party with Jervis in Arkham. “I-” His face turned away from her, catching the uneasiness, but happy to play along like it wasn’t the elephant in the room. “I guess I got so used to building with what I know. The city has so many pipes and wires and metal bars lying around that make great materials for-” He stopped awkwardly, hand waving a little in the air like he was trying to think up a good alternate word for death traps and dangerous mazes. “Projects.” Good one, Eddie. “But, that hotel. Just the size and scope. It looked so real and detailed. You should be proud.”
Tea. She could do tea. While he made himself comfortable, she moved to the small breakfast book and set the kettle on, pulling out two cups, tea bags, spoons, and the milk and sugar. "I never even once thought to use anything other than the practical materials one would expect in my designs," she replied. "And even while creating from things you know, you make it your own. I designed a bridge once, from memory. It complicates things, makes you wonder if what you're dreaming is real or if it's a dream. It's not very safe, in the grand scheme of things but not for you. It's entirely different for you." She wasn't anything other than impressed. If he was the Riddler, who cared? He was Eddie here, and Eddie he would stay.
She flushed lightly at the compliment. It was nice to be able to showcase her skills for someone who appreciated it. "Thank you," she replied, quiet and warm. The kettle whistled and she poured them both cups. "I've studied architecture, love it really. The dreamworld is a way for me to create, to challenge myself to come up with new designs, new concepts." She loved it, and although Cobb had hated being in Limbo, she thought she would enjoy it for a few hundred years. Being alone was okay. She could live with that.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for just a second while her back was turned. He thought about the hotel and his own circus with the brass and green hidden somewhere underneath it. Then, he started putting the two designs together, piece by piece. It looked like some strange cathedral from a fantasy world, but if they had more time...He opened his eyes when she started talking about architecture, smiling a little at her passion for it. “You’re lucky to have something like that. I use computer programs, but generally I have to rely on my mind and paper to get anything really planned out.”
Eddie took the tea from her and blew across the surface of it, taking a spoon and a little sugar. “Sadie says you use this to steal information from people, right?” He said suddenly. “But, why don’t you try to use it for something good? Like, say some old man wants to go to the bottom of the ocean or fly to the moon. He’s about to die and that sort of thing is impossible in the real world, but in a dream you could build that for him.”
She didn't think he was at such a disadvantage, with only his mind and paper. He was intelligent, resourceful, and there was an end goal in mind. For her, this was a once-off so far. She wasn't even sure if she belonged with all of them. She brought the tea over and handed him one of the cups, letting him fix his however he wanted. She added only a sugar cube into hers.
His question didn't surprise her. It was the suddenness of it. "That's how Cobb was making his money, and Arthur worked with him. They were there from the beginning, when the government was using it for training purposes. It's used for that, in some places in the world," she replied, but as for why she didn't do it, she didn't know. "I've never taken anyone under before. You're the first." She shrugged, as if that answer his question.
Riddler shrugged, a sort of neurotic roll of his shoulders to prove he was just thinking out loud. The things he could do with a device like that were unquantifiable, but they were all very, very bad. He stirred the tea thoughtfully and inhaled the steam, enjoying the smell of dried leaves and spices. He and Ivy hadn’t seen each other since the party, but she left an appreciation for the scent of all things natural. Something the Riddler had very little personal experience with. “Keeping something like this to yourself seems like a waste. I’m glad you shared it with me, at least.”
He took a sip of the tea and looked up at her. “So, you won. A favor and a secret. Don’t say no, because it doesn’t work on me. Clinical OCD and all that. I have rules I play by or things get- confusing.” Eddie nodded simply. He didn’t want to scare her with that kind of thing and if anything his rule seemed kind of silly. Like a wizard who granted wishes with rules and conditions attached.
His rule only made her smile. She understood where he was coming from, so she had no problem trying to appease him. "For the favor...could we keep this between us? I'm not so sure if the others would understand. And the secret...well, they're yours aren't they? So I'm not picky." Maybe it was a bit of a cop out, but she hoped he would let her get away with it.
“That’s fine. Most people who deal with me want to keep it under wraps.” He smiled, but there was pride in his voice. At his best, he was a brilliant detective, at his worse he was a dangerous criminal that could destroy Gotham from the internet out. Even here, dressed like some professor enjoying some tea with a young woman, he was proud of that. Glad he was the only one who could see the patterns in his alliances.
Now, normally he wouldn’t let her allow him to pick the secret, but she didn’t know him well enough to pick out something from his past he kept quiet. “Okay. A secret.” He took another sip of the tea, mouth bunching up a little as he tried to think of something good. Riddler was a natural entertainer, after all. This had to be good. And, more to the point, it needed to be something she could use to understand him better. Like a special, handheld looking glass. “Apparently, I have a daughter out there somewhere. I never met her, it was after I ended up here. But, I read it in the comics.” He couldn’t really wrap his head around it. “I’m hoping she wasn’t really. That’s the secret. I hope for her sake she was just some street rat that Riddler paid to make her pretend to be.” Riddler looked at his teacup and offered an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry. That was too much. I always go too far. It’s a Gotham problem, trust me.” He finished his tea and stood up. “I’m going to go. Think about it before you contact me again. I’d like to talk to you, I think you’re brilliant, but really think about it.”
He set the teacup down delicately and reached into his pocket, feeling the key he shared with Sadie. Riddler didn’t want to go home, per-say. He wanted Sadie to go to a casino and make him do the math over and over. “Thanks for the tea.” Riddler waved and then opened her apartment door and walked through to Passages.