Edward Nigma (riddle_riddle) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-03-17 23:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | oracle, riddler |
Part I
Who: Riddler and Oracle
NPCs:
Where: The Clocktower and wherever Riddler is located
When: Saturday, March 17, early evening
What: Oracle gets a riddle
Rating: R for violence
Status: Completed in gdocs
In between all the spam mail that the Riddler liked to forward, just to be a jerk (or in case Oracle needed, you know... a penis enlargement!), there was another message tucked in with the rest that needed to be taken seriously. Whenever he sent a riddle, some crime was sure to be committed.
To give this away
I give me away
Jack of all trades
Is at his first Bombay
Oracle was alerted to the message from the Riddler a few seconds after it arrived in the server space she had assigned just for his riddles--the ones that preceeded crimes. It had been an interesting thing that had happened when she had become Oracle and set up her infrastructure how all these familiar face came back into her life in an entirely different way. The Riddler seemed to have a lot more respect for her as Oracle than he’d ever had for her as Batgirl, where she had been pretty sure he thought of the extended Bat-family as little more than trap fodder.
Unfortunately, it meant the onus of thwarting his schemes oftentimes began with her. She brought up a quick remote connection to it, sifting through the collection of spam to get to the root of the alert. It seemed he was going to be active again. Her mind was racing through all the text she had read in her life that could be used to decode his clue.
Not long after the riddle was sent, a notification on Oracle’s computer flashed, alerting her to go to a certain website, because it had scanned its content and found it to possess suspicious content, having located certain characteristics and keywords. The webpage was immediately recognised as one set up by Riddler, from the green question mark motif that he used. A streaming video screen was placed in the middle of the page. The live video showed a dark room, with a single light shone, illuminating from above. Eventually, into that light stepped the Riddler, looking dapper in his green, question marked suit and matching bowler hat. He swung his cane as he walked, like a true performer, for indeed, he was pandering to an audience.
"WELCOME, my loyal viewers, to another online edition of Riddler's Roundup. I am your host." He smiled and placed his hand upon his chest. "The Riddler." He then leaned both hands upon his cane, speaking very casually. " Many of you already know me, as well as the rules of my game. Answer my questions correctly, and live. But if you get them wrong, you suffer the consequences. Tonight we have a special episode with a special guest. Tonight's guest..."
The smile quickly faded from the Riddler's face, being replaced by a sinister seer. The sudden shift in moods was dramatic, revealing his true feelings. His words were spoken through gritted teeth, coming out as a growl. "... is a worthless hack, who is too unimaginative to even come up with his own ideas that he has to steal them from ME! Former game show host, turned second-rate criminal, his name is Arthur Brown, but you may know him better as Cluemaster!"
Another spotlight turned on to reveal a man, seated beside the Riddler, bound to his seat with thick, leather straps, to whom Riddler dramatically pointed with his cane. Cluemaster wore his costume, except the face mask was pulled down and hanging around his neck to fully expose his face, though currently, his body was slumped, his breathing heavy - if it had not been for the straps, he looked as though he might fall to the floor. Upon various parts of his body - chest, arms, neck, forehead - electrodes were attached with thick pieces of black duct tape. The Riddler took two steps closer to stand beside, and unceremoniously, grabbed a fistful of the prisoner's hair to lift his head for the camera to see: Arthur Brown's face was beaten, the corner of his lip bled and an ugly bruise was forming above his left eye.
"Leaving clues to his crimes, but not even clever enough to form them into riddles?! And they dare to compare him to ME?!"
The Riddler's anger were so intense, his veins were popping out on his neck. He gave Cluemaster's head a painful tug and a violent shake before letting go, and when he shouted, it was directly into Cluemaster's ear. "We're going to prove once and for all that you are nothing like me!"
In an instant, the Riddler's demeanor changed; he stood straight and seemingly composed, leaning upon his cane again. "We'll begin with something easy. Riddle me this! The person who makes it has no need for it. The person who purchases it does not use it. The person who uses it does not know it. What is it?"
There was a momentary pause as the Riddler waited for the answer. Cluemaster moaned a little and shook his head, then mumbled something unintelligible as he tried to pull himself together.
"Wrong!" announced the Riddler. With the tip of his cane, he pressed a button upon the floor that was out of the sight of the camera, which turned on an electrical current. Cluemaster's body jostled and writhed from the sudden jolt and slumped again when it was over. Giddy with excitement at the pain he was inflicting, the Riddler couldn’t contain his maniacal laughter. No sooner had the current stopped, he declared, gleefully, "The answer is coffin, which is what you’ll be needing very shortly. The voltage becomes stronger with each wrong answer. Next riddle! Which question can you never honestly answer yes to?”
The Riddler’s cane hovered over the button to torture the man again, practically assuming that Cluemaster would get it wrong, but there came a groan. The voice was weak and strained, but came out clear enough to be heard, “Are you asleep?” This surprised the Riddler so much that he turned his head sharply to stare; a silent moment passed while his expression darkened, clearly upset.
“The answer I was looking for was ‘Are you dead?’, but ‘Are you asleep?’ is also an acceptable answer,” he replied, though not with as much gusto as when he proclaimed that he’d been wrong. Riddler whipped his cane away from the button and held it tightly with both hands - he hadn’t expected Cluemaster to be clever enough to know the answer, what to speak of being physically capable of answering at all. “Not a problem,” he said, speaking to himself more than Cluemaster or the viewing audience. “The riddles are going to become harder as we go along, too.”
As the messaging on the site had started, it had been enough to make Babs groan. Having overseen so many of the counter efforts against Mr. Nigma’s exploits, she knew full well his extraordinary sense of bravado, and she was not surprised that his anger tonight was over someone encroaching on his modus operandi. Still, her annoyance gave way to concern when she saw Arthur Brown and her mind began its assessment of his current state of health (which was definitely not good).
Eventually, she had to block out the sights and sounds of torture instead of focus on the Riddle.
“Jack of all trades” had been the simplest part to decode. Given the copious use of the phrase she was able to conjure up the rest of the saying “...is a Master of none.” Since she had just witnessed the Riddler’s extravagant instance of torture, it was easy to figure out that the first two lines refered to “a clue” (ie. he was referring to the Cluemaster). So three lines had been dedicated to identifying his target, which he had already done for her moments after the first Riddle had been sent.. “And he says he’s nothing like the Cluemaster...” she grumbled, pulling up her case file on the Cluemaster. The answer was staring her right in the face once she had all the facts laid out for her. His first hideout had been a warehouse on the bay, which had later been bombed by criminals.
She quickly pulled up the address. She took stock of the threat level of the task at hand, weighing it against a map showing the locations of her current pool of vigilantes in Gotham. Who was in the right place? Who could best deal with the unique challenges of the Riddler? The Birds were out--while they were all cunning in their own right, you needed to be quick and analytical to put down the Riddler. She took a moment to think and then made the call to Tim.