'The Riddler's Horoscope'
By Indiana
Characters: Edward Nygma, Riddlerbot OC (Alan)
Synopsis: Horoscopes are never accurate, except when they are.
Dad, were you born in the month of July or August?
"July," Edward said, looking up from the machinery he was working on, somewhat nonplussed. "Why on earth would you ask me that?"
Alan was carrying a magazine, and he showed Edward the page he was looking at. This sounded a lot like you.
Edward glanced at the headline before rolling his eyes. "Alan, horoscopes are meaningless."
I don't know, Alan said, looking at the magazine again. I mean you do kinda…
When this failed to lead anywhere, Edward scowled at him. "I do kind of what?"
Alan continued to inspect the page in front of him. You're reckless with your health, like this says. And –
"Alan," Edward interrupted, "you do know how people come up with those things, don't you?"
No.
Edward put down his screwdriver. "Persons calling themselves 'astrologers' have divided the circumference of the Earth into twelve sections. They call them 'houses'. These houses, for some reason, control certain parts of your body. They then make up a 'prediction' based on which planets happen to be where at the applicable time of year. They lift trends from society and pretend that the planets caused them. Horoscopes are, most of the time, outrageously wrong."
But this one isn't.
Edward inhaled in exasperation. "Are you sure?"
Pretty sure.
"So it's accurate as pertaining to you, then."
Alan looked away from the magazine for a moment. Probably trying to determine, exactly, what his date of consciousness had been. Edward had not told him, considering he had created him by accident in the first place and had not held much stock in birthdays in many years anyway.
Yes. Yes it is.
"Oh, let me see that." Edward got up and Alan relinquished it to him, and Edward scanned down the page. He shook his head. "This says you're hiding from your problems. What problems could you possibly have? And even if it were relevant, could you say the same for Nikola or Ada, all under the same bogus star sign as you?"
I'm uncertain Nikola is actually conscious, Alan answered, accepting the magazine again. And Ada hides from all of her problems.
Edward returned to work. "That is mere coincidence, and means nothing."
But Alan seemed unable to drop it.
The horoscope in the magazine had been for the entire month, but Alan had discovered the newspaper ran them daily and was very intent on retrieving one to read it. He seemed to be taking it all extremely seriously, though Edward reminded him at every opportunity that it was just superstition. After the culmination of a particularly successful meeting Edward had decided to make himself tea and call it a day when he saw Alan sitting on the counter with a page from the newspaper and what probably would have been a very intent expression, if he'd had a mobile face. "What," he said, not bothering to hide his lack of interest.
This said that 'your proven skills and talents will lend weight to your suggestions.'
"And?"
There's usually a lot more arguing during your meetings than there was today.
"Alan. The planets did not align in such a way that determined a particular outcome of that gathering. They are my employees, and I am their boss. They can listen to me or they can become suddenly destitute. That is all."
Okay, Alan said, but he did not look up from the paper.
The next day he was forced to admonish Ada, though he hated it, because she did not seem to grasp the fact that, although she found it very amusing to generate frequency sweeps, he found it extremely annoying, not to mention painful. She did not stop until he yelled at her, at which time she ran away, and instead of even trying to figure out where she'd gone he just sat down and leaned his head against the wall. His ears hurt.
It's okay, Dad, Alan said. You were supposed to do that.
"What?" Alan was difficult to hear over the ringing. He would go downstairs and work on the computer for a while and hope this faded sometime soon.
'A young person in the family may need some discipline. Sometimes there is a need to be cruel to be kind. You-'
"Alan," Edward said, standing, "shut up."
/
It kept happening.
He didn't believe there was any truth to it. That would be stupid. But every day the horoscope would have made a prediction for some event, and it was happening often enough he was becoming unnerved. They weren't real. They couldn't be real.
But the day Edward completed one of his puzzle rooms and was getting started on the cleanup, he discovered all three of his Riddlerbots helping without being asked and without causing a fuss… which the horoscope predicted. The day after that he sent out the emails informing his better informants that they were being elevated a pay grade… which the horoscope predicted. Two days later he had a somewhat unexpected and confusing invitation from Selina Kyle, of all people, to assist her with some nonsense that gave him an idea for a future plan he had not quite worked out yet… and the horoscope predicted that too. For two weeks straight, every day the horoscope foretold a significant event, and this event actually happened. Edward didn't believe in these things, of course, but he was beginning to wonder if someone was playing a trick on him. It was uncanny. It was unlikely. But it was happening, and more often than he would ever have liked.
The following evening Edward was having a cigarette on the porch and Alan was reading his horoscopes, and Edward side-eyed him, waiting for the prediction. "Well?" he said, when his expectation was met only with silence.
Well what? Alan asked.
"No 'I told you so' today?"
I've never said that, Alan said. But none of this applies to you. It says you shouldn't spend money on extravagance you can't afford, but you have a lot of money.
"I haven't spent any money today either," Edward told him, throwing the end of the cigarette into the yard. "Well, it was fun while it lasted."
I have the one for tomorrow already, Alan said, picking up a paper Edward hadn't seen from beside him. Do you want to hear it?
Edward stood up, shrugging, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Why not."
'Though you feel confident about certain issues it can sometimes be hard to express your thoughts without sounding smug. You have firm opinions and you know you are right. Unfortunately, other people feel equally as strong in their views. Why not think twice before sharing your ideas? Use tact and diplomacy and you will retain your popularity much longer.'
Edward actually had to laugh at that one. "All right. You got me. That is quite accurate."
Alan laughed as well. You're not going to listen to it though, are you.
Edward shook his head. "Why should I? It says right there I'm right, doesn't it?"
It does. And Alan folded up the newspapers and stacked them on the side of the porch. I don't think I'm going to look at them anymore.
"Why not?" He waited for Alan to pass through the door before moving over the threshold himself. "You were having fun, weren't you?"
Not really, Alan said, shrugging a little. Horoscopes make it look like someone already planned your life out for you. I'm glad it was wrong today, because it was starting to bother me.
Edward pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Don't you worry, Alan. Nobody directs my life but me. The arrangement of the planets certainly does not. Astrology is merely cheap entertainment for the easily swayed masses."
It can be very convincing though, Alan told him, and belatedly Edward realised what he'd just said might have been taken as an insult. He made an attempt at correction.
"Oh but of course! If the predictions didn't somehow connect with a sizable portion of those reading them, they would not be so popular. Things that appeal to the lowest common denominator are quite often very convincing."
They almost started to have you there for a minute though, didn't they?
"Of course they didn't!" Edward protested. "What can some yutz pulling generic descriptions out of a hat possibly tell me about myself that I don't already know?"
Still, he thought as he and Alan made their way to the basement. It couldn't hurt to give the horoscope a look-over tomorrow. Just in case.
Author's note
My Riddler's birthday is July 29, 1973. It was a wonderful coincidence that, when I was looking through horoscopes to determine when his birthday should be, Leo was bang-on AND July is a prime number.
I wanted to write this fic because I saw a monthly horoscope post for November and, while it was about 0% accurate for me, it was 100% accurate for Riddler, as usual, and I find that super hilarious. The horoscopes in this fic are from a website that archives them back for three months.