Who: The Riddler, the Joker - a match made in hell When: Thursday, June 7 Where: Abandoned railway station outside Gotham What: Joker recruits the Riddler and strikes a bargain Rating: PG-13 Status: Complete in Gdocs
The oldrailway station was long abandoned, both outer and inner walls covered with graffiti. It was located just outside of Gotham on a stretch of neglected track, now broken and overtaken by weeds.
It was a perfect place for a Death Trap.
Although Eddie had been busy working on all the amazing technological goodies that was given to him by Lex Luthor, he still made the time to do the things which he enjoyed the most. One of them being constructing Death Traps. The floorboards were torn up and Eddie was installing a panel that would act as a trigger when stepped upon. Lying on the ground upon his belly, he was fiddling with connecting the wires, wearing a flashlight headband to see what he was doing in the shadows; it was late afternoon, but the inside of the station was dark, with its windows boarded over. Finishing the last wire, he propelled himself off the floor with a push and leapt to his feet. Dusting off his jeans, he turned to grab his satchel that was upon a rickety old wooden table, located closer to the door.
Seated down amongst the bits of scrap metal and technology was a single bit of paper cardboard. The back was decorated in a green and purple diamond pattern and the jester’s face on the reverse side was as much a trademark as his scarred countenance.
For a man dressed in such flashy clothing, he had been surprisingly quiet. Years of going toe to toe with The Batman had certainly taught The Joker a thing or two. He stood nearby, hands folded atop a length of metal pipe that doubled for a walking stick, shoulders hunched. Dark eyes watched The Riddler’s movements with an obviously bored expression.
“Evening, Eddie.” The syllables came out all wrong as the twisted man had twisted the word, making it just as hideous as him.
The flash light strapped to Eddie’s head shined upon the card and he froze, eyes narrowing. He did not need to turn it over to know whose calling card this was; there could only be one person. The voice speaking his name was a confirmation, and chilled his bones to the marrow. Instantly, he spun around to face the Joker, the light now shining in his direction. Muscles tensed, ready to spring at any moment, carefully watching for any clues that the Joker might make any sudden motion. Eddie regarded the metal pipe, and knew it could be used as a weapon, in addition whatever knives and toxins that were usually in the Joker's possession. Eddie, himself, was armed with a pistol, tucked in his jeans in the small of his back, which the Joker would’ve noticed while he was working, but Eddie did not reach for it. Not just yet.
“What are you doing here?!” he demanded, furious over the invasion of privacy. “What do you want?” Eddie’s mind immediately went to Harley, and the news article that had reported on their toy store break-in as being Gotham’s ‘newest couple’, or some such nonsense. Had Joker come to extract his revenge over the slight? If so, Eddie was determined not to go down without a fight. Even though he'd be no match physically, his hands balled into fists.
The reaction caused those heavy eyelids to narrow and a smirk played at the edges of the clown’s scar. Laughter bubbled up but didn’t consume him like it tended to do in these situations. Oh, there was plenty to laugh at but he’d wait and see what Eddie had in store. Surely someone as anal retentive as The Riddler would have contigencies? No? Was the Bat the only amusing one in Gotham? Boo.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Eddie!” The vowels stretched out longer than they should as he threw his arms up to encompass the room around them. His head turned slightly and he regarded the poorly dressed man through half lidded eyes, his lips pursed. The pipe was pointed right at Eddie’s heart even if there was still another twenty feet between them. “Is that anyway to talk to such an old friend? Especially one here to offer you such an exciting, opportunity to redeem yourself.” Joker planted the metal pipe on the ground and walked casually to his right. “I mean, Scarecrow? Really?” The clown gave a little snort of derision.
When the Joker began walking, Eddie mirrored his movements so that they were always squared off; Eddie did not want to give the Joker an opportunity to come up behind or into one of his blind spots. He did, however, notice that the path the Joker was taking would soon cause him to step upon one of the trigger-floorboard that he’d already assembled, if only he continued a little further.
“You have to admit, staging Crane’s death was done brilliantly,” Eddie said with the smallest of smirks but the greatest of pride. “What sort of opportunity are you talking about?” His curiosity was piqued and he asked despite himself.
As if the Clown Prince knew, Joker’s foot steps slowed to a stop, just outside of the range of triggering the floorboard. He cast another glance around at the gloomy surroundings and wondered how low Eddie had fallen. He sucked air in through his teeth and gave the riddle obsessed fiend a nod of concession. “Well then I suppose congratulations are in order that he did not die.”
The clown turned so that he was facing Riddler, the pipe moving nimbly in his dexterous fingers. “A chance to do what you do best.” The word was tainted with Joker’s patented brand of mockery. “Distract the Batman.” He looked around the warehouse. “You have something in mind already. And I know you would just love a chance for him to pay attention to you, instead of his pack of bat-brats.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed, suspiciously. Everything the Joker had said was true, including the part where he had a plot in reserve that he was holding on to, but only for the right occasion. “This isn’t a social visit, though. Why are you asking? What do you get out of it? And why should I work with you?” He gave the clown an estimative, judgemental glance, up and down. It was evident that the Riddler didn’t like the Joker, and it wasn’t just about how he treated Harley, either. Imbeciles had the audacity to make a comparison between them, claiming they were similar when, in Eddie knew they couldn’t be more different.
The clown rolled his eyes as Eddie asked for more reasons. Honestly, it was like the man didn’t trust him. Why shouldn’t he? The Joker never lied about his personality nor did he make excuses. He was an open book. Granted the pages were all smeared with blood.
Joker snorted at the claim. “Do I really look like the type of guy to pay a social visit.” The madman stepped closer, the distance between him and the trigger floorboard increasing. “What do I get out of it? Hmmm..” Those dried and cracked lips pressed together in a thin line as a series of giggles rolled around his stomach. “Ooohh, what don’t I get out of it?” He cooed and turned to look at the warehouse. “Oh, the rest of you pretenders try to play the game. It’s almost admirable.” He turned abruptly, the walking stick pointed at Eddie. “But you never really understood it the same way Bats and I do. I’m a tolerant man,” A laugh escaped after that, “And I allow you all to have your little fun. It amuses me.” His eyes narrowed and that grin stretched his features into ghastly proportions.
“But you never really go far enough. You don’t push the envelope. You want to know what I get? Ha! I get to remind the fools like Dent and Crane and even morons like Croc why Batman gets his tights in a wad when ever I grow bored of Arkham.” Another step brought Joker closer. “You want your ego, stroked, don’t you Eddie. Well yes, you prove useful at times and you never claim to be something you’re not. Your only fault is that your eyes are bigger than your stomach. And your tastes, though equiste, will never be sated. Not by anything that’s mine.” That grin turned deadly and something evil danced in his eyes. It was obvious he was referring to Harley. “But if there is one man out there that can draw Batty’s attention like I can, it’s you.”
“So there you have it. A chance to best Batman in the greatest scheme that,” Joker rolled the next word around in his mouth, finding it to his distaste “The Riddler has ever concocted. You can beat him and humiliate him in every way imaginable. And he can live knowing that you’ve best him.” The psychopath stared at a spot on the wall, his grin stretching again. The skin on his lips tore and blood oozed in to fill the spots. “And there I will be, to drive him lower than he’s ever been. One supremely bad day. Enough to snap his mind and drive him to fight me like he’s never done before.”
Joker idly straightened his tie. “That’s what I get out of this.”
The more the Joker spoke, the more Eddie became irritated, and it showed upon his expression. He couldn’t deny that he loved having his ego stroked, but the thinly veiled insults went against his grain. He also caught the hint about Harley, although externally he would (and could) never admit to himself, or anybody else, that he wanted her for his own. But he didn’t like the insinuations that were being flung at him, and so he sneered. “Get over yourself, you ass! You have no clue what I’ve been doing, behind the scenes! I’ve got my fingers everywhere, not only in Gotham, but outside!” He was standing beside the table where he snatched up his Riddler’s cane, which was symbolic of his criminal identity. The Riddler's ego had been scratched and he needed to defend himself. “I’ve been hacking into SHIELD’s computers, which happens to be this nation’s most secret government organization, and I’m now on their Most Wanted List! I’ve also met with Lex Luthor, for a deal that’ll blow any piddly plan you have out of the water. Oh, Batman’s going to notice me, alright. Because I’m going to be right in his goddamn face! You’re not fooling me. I know you better. There’s something else going on inside that mind of yours, and if you think I’m going to be part of your plans, then think again, bucko.”
Aggravating the Joker was never a good idea, and Eddie realized that he could very well be signing his death warrant by insulting the clown. However, Eddie also knew that the Joker needed little incentive to murder, and so he could just as well be killed, irregardless of how much he cooperated. But this was Eddie’s ace in the hole: no matter how much the Joker insulted, the fact remained that he taken the time to see him and had made this request. Which meant his life might still be spared. If not, Eddie was determined to put up a good, although probably short-lived, fight. Now, if only the Joker shifted his foot a little be closer to the spot on the floor that would activate his trap.
Those heavy lidded eyes observed Eddie’s little outburst like a bored parent watching yet another tantrum from a toddler. At the mention that he was on SHIELD’s most wanted list Joker casually snorted, the metal pipe resting once more on the ground. His weight shifted, some of it displaced onto the walking stick. Silence fell around them as Nigma finished up his speech.
Joker did not seem amused.
And then it happened. “Heh.. hehehehehehHAHAhahAHHAhahah.” Laughter ripped its way from his innards and tainted the very air around them. Soon he was doubling over, holding his stomach as he continued to laugh. His head tipped back and tears were at the corners of his eyes. “D-Do you..heh..hhehehe.. think that hAHAHAHahHAHa.” The laughter continued until it diminished into an amused sound. Gloved fingers dabbed tears from the edge of his eye.
“Eddie, eddie, eddie. You think I care about your plans? Oh sure, trying to hack into SHIELD is... impressive? Snort. But have you succeeded? You could do so much better than this for his attention.” Joker was never one to give advice. He shifted his own pieces around all for fun with Batman. But now it was needed and the idea of getting into Eddie’s head and sharpening his claws on the nerd’s psyche just seemed like too much fun to pass up. “Trying and failing Eddie. I suppose you’re right. Ambition is the enemy of success.” There was another chorus of giggles.
“And you wonder why Harley has never showed interest in you beyond her bouts of boredom after I’ve kicked her to the side.” Joker stepped forward, the pipe clanking against the floor with each step. The edge of his mouth quirked in amusement. “How do you ever expect to win her over when you do all the wrong things. Hmm?”
The laughter ringing in Eddie’s ears sharpened his anger, and the way he weighed his cane in his hand, combined with the fire burning in his eyes, made it clear that he wanted to bash the Joker’s head repeatedly, until his skull cracked. The comment about Harley hit him closer to home than he wanted to admit, though he was also enraged about how the Joker belittled his accomplishments. Eddie actually took a step forward, intent on following through with his desire to kill, but then froze in place as an idea struck him. One could almost see the gears of thought turning inside his brain. His shoulders lowered, his muscles relaxed as he composed himself to regard the clown, coldly.
“I’ll do it,” Eddie said, devoid of any emotion. “I’ll pull off a distraction that will have them talking about for years. On one condition.” A pause. “You give me Harley.”
The laughter that came out now was low and emanated forth like a living thing. It seemed trapped in his throat and even as he giggled himself mad, the Joker tightened his own grip. Did Eddie want to play? It would be such a shame to kill him now before he had his chance to be useful. The delightful journey down to the end of one’s sanity was something he would gladly show Nigma. But not this night. Unless pushed.
The laughter stopped as Eddie made his condition known. A single brow cocked at that and then he tipped his mouth in a smirk. Oooooo. Interesting. But do-able. Harley would never be Eddie’s. In fact, even if this plan of his game to fruition, Harley would just mourn his loss. Probably put a gun in her own mouth, the sick little dear. Now that would be a punchline worth remembering. ”Hmmm..” Joker tapped his lips as he started moving again, his gait shifting and erratic. “Harley you say?” His direction brought him closer to Eddie and Joker knew he would move away to keep the distance going.
“Done.” He said with a casual flick of his hand. The clown continued on his path toward the door. “Two weeks, Eddie. ” The clown then broke into a fit of giggles as he slipped out of the door.