Lovers and Madmen
Characters - Edward Nygma (The Riddler)/Female OC
Rating for language, violence, and eventual sexual scenarios
Disclaimer: Don't own anything related to DC/Batman. I own original characters only. This story is merely to entertain, no infringement or offense meant.
Chapter 1 - Revolution
Edward Nashton was rarely surprised. When a person was as intellectually gifted as he was, life held little excitement. So as he awoke one morning, it didn't surprise Eddie that he was bored. He hadn't done a caper in weeks and none of his fellow villains had terrorized Gotham enough to drag him out of his rut. Riddler needed to do something, he decided as dragged himself from bed. After showering and dressing in a simple cotton button up shirt of light blue and navy slacks, he walked from his modest bedroom to his kitchen. While Riddler had a home base out by Gotham's warehouse district, he preferred to keep his living space separate, in case his lair was compromised or destroyed. Equipment could be replaced, but he was particular about his personal effects. A perfect example of this particularity was his morning routine.
Every morning Eddie woke, and exercised lightly. Years of being beaten up were beginning to take their toll, so the better condition he kept his body in, the less injuries he sustained bothered him. After exercising, he would shower and dress and then make his coffee, which was a personal blend of ¾ Dark Roast to ¼ Hazelnut Dreams. While his coffee percolated, he pulled out the Half & Half and his favorite ceramic coffee mug – white with the motto, "Don't bother me or I'll have CROSS WORDS with you!" The mug was a gift from The Clown Prince during their last tenure at Arkham. Joker was a sociopathic whack job, but he and Eddie shared a common love of bon mots. Eddie returned the favor by giving Joker a box of gag items. At Arkham, it was the little things that kept the frequent guests sane.
The robust aroma of coffee filled the kitchen and Eddie poured the steaming liquid into his mug before adding the milk. A cautious sip proved the brew to be satisfactory, so he took a larger swig, and sighed in pleasure as the heavenly drink ran down his throat. Once the first cup was drained, Eddie poured another and sat at his breakfast nook with a pen and notepad.
Alright, I want to do something, but what? Bank heist? No, too simple and no pizzazz. Jewelry? Then I have to fence it and I hate dealing with Frank anymore than necessary. Art? Nothing new has come through Gotham recently. I should check to see what's coming up, maybe that will inspire me. In annoyance, Eddie slammed the pen down on the counter. He held in highest esteem the truth, knowing the answers, so when a solution eluded Eddie - it really pissed him off. Quickly, he finished the coffee and washed and returned the mug to its place before stalking into his living room. Grabbing his brown leather loafers from the door, he slid the shoes on his feet and tied the laces. Next he picked up his wallet and cell phone from the mahogany stand beside the front door, and pulled his key ring off the hook marked "Home". Once he had everything, he entered his garage.
Eddie liked nice things, but he wasn't ostentatious. He certainly could afford a mansion or a Rolls Royce but preferred to save his money for his high-end equipment and tools. Plus, he preferred to maintain a low profile during down time. The chances of getting noticed were greater by sailing around Gotham Harbor on a newly acquired yacht. Sometimes more isn't better, it's just gaudy. Although, he did splurge on a blacked out Audi R8 for his high speed needs.
However, even a modest criminal valued performance and luxury, which was why Eddie selected an Audi Q5 for his mundane errands. The deep blue, fully-loaded SUV was sleek and elegant but impressive under the hood. He settled himself in the tan leather seat and started the engine before driving out of his garage and onto the street.
Eddie loved living in Gotham and the diversity she held. There was rich culture next to the dark slums; billionaires walking down the street with the lowest and most dangerous of psychopaths. He could enjoy the latest collection on display at the art gallery and then, as The Riddler, steal the pieces he wanted. Day and night the city was always bursting with activity, legal and illicit, like a fruit ripe for the picking. No matter what section of town – Old Gotham, Downtown, or the Harbor – there was something to see. Street vendors were hawking everything from religion to knock-off jewelry, bootleg electronics to t-shirts. The birds were chirping and searching for food. Kids were rolling skateboards down sidewalk, forcing other pedestrians out of the way. The rush hour traffic filled the air with the stench of gas, but as Eddie came to a stop at a red light the mouth-watering aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls wafted across his nose causing his stomach to growl.
Despite the relatively early hour, the humidity was already in force. The hot, heavy thickness seemed to permeate his air conditioning, and a bead of sweat rolled down his spine as he sat idle. Usually the proximity to the coast afforded cooling breezes that swept in from the Atlantic Ocean across Gotham Bay, but today the air was still and silent, hanging like a sticky, invisible cloud. As Eddie readjusted his position in the seat, he could feel his shirt already clinging to his back. A second bead rolled from his jet black hair down his pale face. Lovely. Pulling out a handkerchief from his pants pocket, he mopped his brow.
Further souring Eddie's mood, a car pulled up behind him blaring the most god awful noise, for he certainly wouldn't call it music. All he could hear was the bass, booming like torpedoes. In fact, after a minute he could feel the bass thumping, rattling his entire car. His head began to throb in time with the beat and Eddie silently pleaded with the light. When Rock 'n Roll first came out, it was met with extreme resistance, but at least the songs had words, melody, and a discernible beat – not just 'BOOM' for four minutes straight.
Maybe he was growing old, but he knew there had to be a link between the decline in society and the decline in entertainment. Art reflects Life and Life reflects Art, so it stood to reason that if Life was crap, Art would be, too. And vice versa. Music, TV, movies - they were outward reflections of society's interests and capabilities. Eddie did not think too highly of a world that held in esteem the Hills and the Bachelor and Real Housewives as valuable entertainment. Behind his sunglasses, Eddie's icy blue eyes narrowed. The light changing from red to green redirected his irritation.
Criminals don't become super villains for no reason, they became great because of extraordinary abilities. Some had phenomenal strength, some lightning fast reflexes, some were genetically altered metahumans. But most of Gotham's elite class of supervillains held one thing in common - intelligence. They could research and plan to pull off outrageous capers. No one trumped the area of planning and strategy like The Riddler. He was a perfectionist and neurotic, but his genius made him an outstanding criminal. One of his basic tenets was a daily routine. By following a routine, people know where and when to find their target; by breaking from that routine, the target can outsmart his enemies. Eddie's morning routine concluded with a trip to Daily Dan's News Stand. And since The Riddler wasn't in anyone's crosshairs at the moment, Eddie felt safe to keep his schedule and visit Dan's for his daily news. Behind every great individual was an exceptionally great source of intel.
Being located downtown near the police station, Dan frequently heard gossip and was willing to share, for a small fee. Finding a parking space, Eddie secured his car and approached the shop. There were a couple of tables outside, but with the weather today, Eddie preferred to enjoy his paper inside. It was a hole-in-the-wall coffee house and newsstand that was smaller than some walk-in closet, but that was Dan's idea - get them in, get their money, and get them out.
Out of politeness, Eddie purchased a coffee and went to grab his periodicals. He grabbed a national paper but the Gotham Times was sold out. Eddie liked to read the paper first, form his own opinion, before he asked Dan for the untold story. Plus, the shop happened to be packed full of people this morning which was not ideal for gathering private information.
Everywhere Eddie looked people were standing in line, waiting for orders or conducting business at the few indoor tables. In fact, the only vacant table was located next to two fashionably dressed young women. By a stroke of luck, good or bad, they had a copy of the Gotham Times haphazardly folded in front of them.
"Excuse me, ladies, do you mind if I borrow that newspaper?" Eddie asked as politely as possible. The girls shared a look and giggled obnoxiously.
"Um, sure. Not like we're reading it," the redhead shrugged.
"We only wanted Page 8," the blond explained. Page 8 was the section reserved for Entertainment news and Gossip. The blond-haired girl half threw the paper in his direction. Eddie took the paper and seated himself at the open table, smoothing out the wrinkled pages.
"I completely forgot what we were talking about!" The red-headed woman complained.
"Miriam's wedding. You're such a ditz, Stacy!"
"Shut up Veronica! Anyways, yeah, I guess Miriam has turned into a total Bridezilla. She wants to get married in South Padre but with that oil spill thing, it's all ugly and stuff."
"I don't see what the big deal is, anyway. Can't they just, I dunno, suck all the oil up?"
"Do you actually care?" Stacy asked in disbelief.
"No. But I don't want to hear about it anymore! Teddy was going on and on about it the other night because I guess they had some talk during his Ethics of Business class. I'm like 'Can you shut up about it already? I'm having a crisis here!' Polio's screwed up my hair! Instead of Lemon Meringue they put Sunshine Sweet on me. Totally wrong for my skin color."
"I'm glad you said it first, I was thinking you looked brassy."
"Yeah. I totally hope someone fires that bitch. If you can't read a friggin' bottle, you shouldn't be doing hair, ya know?" Veronica huffed.
"Uh huh. I quit going to Angelo's because they always messed up my wax."
"I mean, aren't there, like, competent people in this city?"
"I told you to go to a Senior Stylist!"
Veronica said nothing in reply but turned back to their gossip pages. "Oh my God! Look, it's Lila," the blond, Veronica squealed, jabbing her finger into the page.
Stacy laughed. "She is so trashed in that picture!"
"I thought because of her DUI she wasn't supposed to go out?" Veronica whispered excitedly.
"She isn't! But you know they'll let her off, just because her daddy is about to run for governor or something?"Stacy replied.
"I didn't know that!"
"Me either, but Robert cares. He thinks he'll get an internship or something. I'm like 'Do I look like I should be on the arm of a senator?"
"Maybe Robert should get in with the mayor's office." Veronica said.
"Maybe. I mean, we do have a new mayor," Stacy said.
"How'd you know?"
"It says on the front page," Stacy replied, pointing to the front page headline of Eddie's paper.
"What happened to our last one?"
"Hell if I know. I don't even know what the last one's name was."
The girls laughed until the shrill tones of a pop song emitted from Stacy's purse. Eddie didn't listen to pop music so he didn't know the song or performer. All he knew was the high pitched male voice was grating.
"Hello? I'm sitting here with Ronnie... Why would I know you're meeting Teddy and the boys for lunch?... Fine!... I'll see you later!" Stacy said, snapping her phone shut.
"Robert?"
"Yeah. He's all 'Where are you?' And I'm like, "uh, with my girls, duh!' And he's like, well, I'm meeting the boys at the pub to watch The World Cup, so we're not going out tonight."
"But we were going to the movies tonight," Veronica whined.
"I know! I mean, it's just a soccer game. Who cares? Watch the highlights on ESPN or something. I'm so bummed, now the day is ruined! I rescheduled my spa day for our date!"
"Awww," Veronica moaned in sympathy, giving a dramatic pout. "Well, we can still do something, if you want. I know where this is a killer Accessories sale today!"
"You are so awesome!"
"What are besties for?" The girls giggled, gathered their belongings and thankfully left the store.
Eddie gritted his teeth; his patience had dwindled to dangerously low levels. He admittedly understood little about the female psyche, but knew that gossip and shopping and vanity were a staple of female gatherings. However, these girls were exceptionally vapid. Was society regressing into nothing more than gossipmongers, air-headed twits who couldn't speak proper English, and people able to cheat the justice system because of their name and celebrity? All he wanted was the chance to enjoy the newspaper and plan a little mischief and these girls had soured his morning. Sighing in resignation, Eddie opened the national paper and began to update himself on the day's current events.
War, financial crisis, politics – same old, same old. The Oil spill was [still] disastrous. How all those executives and scientists were unaware of the severity of the problem, he didn't know. And here, two months later, over 100,000 barrels were leaking daily into the Gulf. Eddie was surprised Red hadn't intervened yet. Eddie actually pitied the poor bastards if she got her hands on them.
The new iPhone was being released this week. Thousands upon thousands of people could spend hundreds of dollars on a piece of technology that in a year would be obsolete. Was it any wonder the financial advisors were concerned about a Recession? Jobless claims aside, people were losing their homes and filing for bankruptcy but could blow nearly a thousand dollars on a phone. Eddie thought it ironic that the President was pushing for exercise awareness to help battle the national obesity crisis and yet the country was clamoring for devices that could do everything except wipe their ass for them.
Reading the Gotham Gazette fueled his internal fire. The front page headline touted the election of Jacqueline Connor as Gotham's new mayor. Eddie knew little about her other than she was knew to Gotham's politics. Gotham had a horrible track record for mayors. Most were bribed or blackmailed into supporting the illegal activities of the mobs and super criminals or they were killed. Reading about Ms. Connor new initiatives to clean up Gotham, Eddie was unsure which category she would fall into.
For instance, she was allowing the City Council to repeal voter petition initiatives. Voters put these officials in office. It seemed to Eddie a shady move to not allow the people express their concerns, such as a laundry list of new taxes and revenue programs. Mayor Connor was demonstrably vague on the details of how these funds would be distributed and by whom.
She was also creating programs to help the lower income citizens of Gotham. Housing, food, health care would all be more readily available through the redistribution of existing funds. In fact, a couple millions dollars was already allocated to create a database to help these less fortunate individuals. No, he had read that correctly. A couple million dollars was allotted expressly to create a database so that people could then use government money to secure necessities. The fact that so much money and time needed to be spent on a way for to find the subsidized housing that the government would then turn around and pay for astounded the veteran villain.
As smart as Eddie was, even he didn't understand her Traffic Congestion Relief fund. Gotham had mass transit available so Eddie was unsure what more this woman was expecting to achieve. Conveniently, her comments on that program were exceedingly generic other than she was replacing the city's parking meters with new electronic card reader versions. The intention behind the switch was to free up city workers, such as the overworked police force, for other purposes. Eddie felt it was another way to make money.
What caught the super criminal's eye, however, was the "Correctional Education Program" Mayor Connor felt the best way to deal with Gotham's "little crime problem" was to spend an untold amount of money with an annual budget of $200 million dollars to rehabilitate inmates. Wasn't the point of jail to rehabilitate the criminal? The new mayor felt if education and vocational training were provided that the criminals of Gotham would lead more profitable lives and be productive members of society. Last time Eddie checked, Blackgate Penitentiary was full because its inhabitants didn't want to work. Many of them had a vocation, such as auto mechanic, they simply chose to use it in non-legal endeavors. And if she thought any of that would help the residents of Arkham, she was either stupid or crazy herself. Arkham Asylum dealt with the criminally insane. Riddler and his cronies would never accept "courses on life management and social adaptation". As if Croc or Zsasz could adapt socially. It would, however, be amusing to see some poor government schmuck trying to teach Joker life management skills.
Each of the articles incensed him further, showing how shallow and ridiculous the country was becoming. Eddie was seething, his teeth grinding against each other. This was the last straw. Throwing the papers away in disgust, he left the coffee house without even speaking to Dan.
How society could continue with such grievous abuse of money and power was beyond him. And how could Gotham tick by unaffected by these gross travesties being forced upon her? Where was the outrage? Gotham, nay society as a whole, was in crisis. Society reminded Eddie of sheep, and Gotham was a corral for the weak and mindless. If the people were stupid enough to follow blindly like sheep, they would be treated like animals.
Gotham was screaming for a voice of reason and Riddler felt compelled to answer. Now.
For a moment, Riddler sat in his car with his thoughts whirling. He needed to make a demonstration, but how to get the message across? Get the most bangs for the buck? Bang, that's it! The Mayor was giving a speech at 1 p.m. to announce her referenda and unveil the new parking meters. He would blow up the new parking meters Mayor Connor was displaying this afternoon. And with enough explosives, he could get the meters and a chunk of City Hall and cause mass panic downtown.
Riddler would show Mayor Connor and Gotham the difference between foolhardy idealism and realism. The mindless fools would see his demonstration and be awakened, inspired to make protests of their own! Power is not what a leader hopes to achieve, but how great his influence is.
Turning the key, the car's engine purred to life and Riddler sped through the city towards his lair. As he drove, his genius mind crafted a plan. He would steal a car and plant a bomb in it and drive it to the steps of City Hall. Yes, it was a perfect plan. The bomb would detonate right as the new mayor was making her first public speech. After the fallout, he would catch the train and inconspicuously fade into the hoi polloi on the streets.
Eddie was almost giddy. He couldn't wait to see the panic, hear the screams of terror. When they were begging for deliverance, he would guide them to a better path. Arriving at his lair, Riddler quickly parked his car inside the garage before grabbing his tools. Grabbing a straw fedora and gloves, Riddler returned to the street. He strolled along the sidewalk, adopting a posture of nonchalance, but inside the adrenaline was beginning to flow. The Riddler had a crew of four he occasionally employed, but as this was a simple car bomb and remotely detonate job, he felt it didn't warrant the time necessary to call the crew together and debrief them. Besides, there wasn't any money involved and Eddie was a little stingy. No need to pay your hired hands if you could do the work yourself. And Riddler wanted to do this, to create an explosion of his own making. Few people understood that often committing the crime itself was as rewarding as its objective.
After a few minutes of casing, a suitable transport was spotted. He decided upon an old white Chevy Astro van luckily free of any advertising. Riddler felt no guilt as the owners of the vehicle would likely profit from the insurance settlement due to its loss.
Unfolding a hangar, he quickly worked at the window and on the third attempt managed to pop the window's lock. Sliding into the driver's seat, he broke into the steering column and began to hotwire the van. Within minutes, the engine sputtered to life, so Riddler shifted the car into gear and drove back to his lair. Upon arrival, he parked the stolen transport in front of warehouse's bays.
Dialing a number, the phone rang a couple times before a familiar voice came on the line.
"Riddles! How the hell are you?"
"Gotham is too quiet."
"I've been thinking the same thing," Joker said.
"Are you up for a little mayhem this afternoon?"
"You have to ask?"
"Very well. I'm having a little demonstration to show our new mayor how much I appreciate her new efforts."
"Will there be fireworks?"
"Most definitely. Her tenure will begin with a bang!"
Joker howled with laughter, understanding Riddler's meaning. "What do you need me for?"
"Keep the Winged One busy so he doesn't crash my party."
"Easy Peesy!"
"Great. The mayor is set to give a speech on City Hall's front steps at 1 and I'm giving her one hour."
"You're being generous."
"She is new to Gotham, so I'll give her a learning curve," Riddler quipped back.
"Well, places to see, people to go!" And the line went silent. Riddler shook his head began assembling his supplies.
Prepaid cell phones were a criminal's lifeline, and Riddler had a stockpile of them for occasions such as this. He wanted to be safely away from the blast but close enough to see his work firsthand. The master criminal manipulated the phone so it created an electrical circuit, and attached a radio transmitter in order to remotely activate the detonator at the designated time. A quick test confirmed the rigged cell phone received radio signal so the completed detonator was set aside. Riddler decided an extra bomb would be the exclamation point to his statement so he fashioned a second detonator.
Once confident the detonators worked, he affixed them to the bottom of the lids to two fifty-five gallon drums. Then he carefully prepared two fertilizer bombs from diesel fuel and ammonium nitrate in each barrel before sealing the containers closed. Fertilizer bombs were putrid but potent.
With the bombs ready, Riddler loaded the barrels into the stolen van. Now all that remained was his trademark – the clue. He simultaneously loved and hated his compulsion because it was uniquely The Riddler, his personal stamp on the world. But, on the other hand, whether it was solely a neurosis or a twisted sense of honor, The Riddler always had to give his victim an escape. Puzzles needed answers or there was no point. After scribbling out a suitable clue, he grabbed his laptop, drove the van to City Hall.
Thank you for reading! I'd be ever so grateful if you left a comment. Anything helps to continue the story and improve it. Chapter 2 (You can't always get what you want) coming soon!
Big thank you and yummy cookies to my fabulous beta readers - Toccata 9. and Valkyrien! You guys rock!
Caiyah