A/N: Ugh trying to get some Riddler muse, this is my firrsstt time writing either of these characters so idk constructive criticism/help is welcome~
The slow drip, drip, drip was the first noise to worm its way into his unconscious mind, then the smell – the rotting, dank, mould, blood. Why could he smell blood, why was it so dark, where was he? This wasn't supposed to happen, no, Edward had not accounted for this in any of his recent plans. He had even accounted for getting caught (which really was saying something, considering the Gotham City Police Department was a building full of moronic men wearing shiny badges that thought it entitled them to something) but definitely not... this.
Whatever this happened to be. Suddenly a flash of light invaded every single one of his senses – the click of the switch, the stench of blood rising further into his nostrils, the creak and bang of a door, and the ungodly bright luminescent light. 'One of those cheap fluorescents' was Edward's first thought as he instinctively tried to bring his hands up to shade his eyes.
His wrists barely moved before something dug sharply into his flesh. Blinking rapidly he tried to come to terms with his surroundings – this wasn't Arkham, no, even those shrinks and cops and bullies didn't treat their so-called 'patients' this way. The police department perhaps, but no, there was always an underlying scent of alcohol, vomit, and general sewerage there. Similar, but not identical.
Suddenly something was wrapped around his throat – a hand, he realised as the stubbed fingernails dug into his skin, the fingers reasonably long and thin. Edward attempted to gasp, to swallow, then to breathe, but nothing came of it. That was when the blaringly white face seemed to almost float into view (of course it didn't really float, that was ridiculous, impossible). Then a grin that almost immediately brought images of the Cheshire Cat to mind, although this was different – rimmed in red, not blood-red, no, it was bright and obnoxious.
A tut left the bright red smile, "Mmmm... Come on now, Eddie. Don'tcha tell me you forgot who, I, uh.. am now?" The fingers tightened, the image of marks turning red, then purple, then green, invading Edward's vision, this was not an encounter he was likely to forget in days, a week maybe, if he was lucky. If he was even alive then. "After all... we do have such a... mm, illustrious history.."
Joker. The Joker. Now he remembered.
"I'll give you a name!"
\"A name, why would I... uh, want that? I already have a name." A grin stretched across The Joker's face, the bright red paint fading into the crinkles at the corners of his scarred mouth. "And, uh, everybody knows my name."
He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead, trickling onto his nose, giving away just how ridiculously stressing this particular situation was becoming. The Riddler was an intelligent man, something even he knew – something he liked to demonstrate with every passing chance, but he knew that this intelligence would not give him particularly better odds against the Joker. "The guy who stabbed you in the back, he was in on your plan, he went to the cops. I thought you were good at choosing your goons," Affording himself a small laugh as though this would even fool himself into thinking he was calm, Edward took a small step away from the taller figure – he was getting somewhere, Joker was interested, he could see it. "I guess not."
"D'you really think youre... uh, in such a position to make that claim, Eddie?" Black rimmed gaze flitting downward toward their feet, Joker took a small step forward, closing the gap once more. Edward's gaze shifted to the man's mouth as he slowly dragged his tongue over his cracked lips, seemingly thinking, plotting. "Y'know you take one, uhh, step back there aaaand..."
The smile was back as soon as Edward tipped his head, heart dropping into his stomach at the dark and dreary view of Gotham almost directly beneath him. "What, uh, is interesting is exactly howww... you came across this... uh, information, hm?" A glint of something – silver maybe? - drew Riddler's gaze immediately away from the Joker's face and toward his hand hovering dangerously close to his pocket.
Seeing the shift in attention, a low laugh, almost a chuckle, came from the Joker's mouth. "And here I, uh... thought, we were... allies, Eddie? And yet... here you are, uhh, standing right here telling me you, uh.. know about my plans?"
A breath of a laugh escaped Edward's lips, as though the mere suggestion that he went looking for information on the Joker, his plans and whereabouts, was completely insulting; and to be truthful, it was. He had much better things to do than that. Rolling his shoulders into an easy shrug, Riddler replied, "He came to me, like I could protect him," a smug smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, "Said he was scared, somebody after him, he couldn't go to you because he'd told the police you were going to help out the Mob.. something about Batman. He received a reward for providing our endearing police force with this information – they weren't going to follow him up on his child support debts." Riddler avoided rolling his eyes at the end of his lengthy explanation, he was above such childish behaviour even if the situation did call for it. The man had come to him almost crawling on his knees, as if his transgressions against the Joker wouldn't heed the Riddler from helping him, trusting someone with any of his highly confidential plans or traps. Not that he even needed henchmen to begin with.
Eyeing him somewhat suspiciously, the Joker appeared to be mulling the other man's words over; the Riddler wasn't in his league, no, nowhere near, but occasionally he did appreciate the man's prowess. "Mhmm," The sound was slow, rolling easily off of the Joker's tongue with barely a move of his lips. "And, uh... that would be why I had to find you.."Gesturing vaguely toward Riddler with his left hand, The Joker's eyes rolled back and then focused on something seemingly over Edward's right shoulder. "Instead of, uh... you coming to inform me of this.. mm, little hitch in my plans?"
Tilting his head to the side a little to see what the Joker was looking at, Edward allowed a pause to drift between them before his chosen response. "And why exactly could it possibly be in my best interests to get on your bad side? The only one who's been there and isn't buried in the ground or on the bottom of the ocean is Batman." A soft chuckle interrupted his sentence, but then Edward cleared his throat and focused his attention directly onto the Joker once more, "Speaking of Batman, that is the precise reason I hadn't been able to fit running around looking for you into my increasingly busy schedule."
A shriek of a laugh and the sudden release of pressure from around his throat dragged Edward back into the present, his eyes focusing on the Joker who was taking bounding steps away from him. The light above crackled and dimmed, casting a somewhat haunting light over the other man's painted face. "Remembered now, did ya, Eddie?" A pause, the Joker's tongue running along the inside of his scarred mouth, "You were beginin' to look... uh, positively white." Another laugh rose from the depth's of the Joker's chest, getting higher and higher in pitch until it was almost a shriek, completely manic. It wasn't something Edward hadn't seen before, of course, he had been in alliance with the Joker on numerous other occasions, he simply had no idea why all of a sudden he was the object of the man's entertainment.
He knew what the Joker's plan had initially been, but that was no reason for the Joker to have him kidnapped and.. held hostage. Unless of course, he was a part of the plan all along and Joker needed to make use of his marvellous intellect and rational thinking... but why would he assume that Edward would not simply give him all the clues, all the information, all the things he wanted?
"Oh, can't you... uh, figure this little, mm... puzzle out? I can see your, uh.. your brain just tick-tick-tick," with every syllable the Joker's gloved finger shifted slightly, extended toward his brand new hostage. "ticking, whhhy would he do this," His voice had risen to a somewhat sharp level, an incredibly poor and also insulting imitation of himself, the Riddler thought, "What could he possibly need my uhh, astute observational skills for..."
A choked laugh came from Edward at that, obviously unbelieving although not displaying his annoyance at being insulted by this madman with any more than a slightly raised eyebrow, "Do you even know what that means? Astute?"
The Joker was silent for a moment, simply standing stock-still, staring darkly at Edward's face. But then he burst into laughter, shrill, complete, laughter. A somewhat dissatisfied sound slid from Edward's mouth as he shifted his leather-clad feet on the floor. Then he spotted them. Gas barrels, a few toward the rear two corners of the room – except it wasn't a room, Edward could see now, taking it all in rather suddenly. It was an old freight container, rusted and smelling... transformed into some kind of... he wanted to call it an interrogation chamber but decided it was best to stray from such negative connotations given his current predicament.
Laughter petering away, the Joker's eyes fixed on Riddler, a deep sense of knowing within the darkened irises, "Mmm, figured it all... uh, out, didya?" A couple of light 'tut' sounds rolled off of his tongue then as he stepped forward, closer and closer. "Y'know its startin' t'look like your... uh, your little mind," He was close enough now to raise his fingers and tap them on the side of Edward's skull, "Isn't working so, uh... well, after all, hm, Eddie?"
An indigent look passed over Edward's face as he shifted away slightly, this time quite clearly insulted by the notion that he was not the smartest man in this particular room. "So why me, Joker? Why not one of those dirty cops you have a penchant for murdering, or that blonde-blue-eyed school-teacher you observed walking past your cell in Arkham, mm? There is a reason for everything, isn't there? Or is it because you merely know that you can lure Batman this close with threats to cremate somebody before their untimely death, but needed someone who's pure profession is so called 'death-traps'. Not that that's what they are, of course... Just simple amusements. And this... this has barely any intelligence required. So why, simply because I didn't inform you about your deceitful goon?"
A smirk of a smile twisted onto the Joker's face as he took a slow step back, and then another, and another, until his back was to do the door of Riddler's make-shift cell. "Oh, I'm sure you... uh, would be delighted to know the, uhh, answer to that riddle... In fact I, mmm, predict that question will, uh, positively burn at you."
Then the Joker was gone, a mere shadow in the doorway before it closed with a crash, accompanied by a shriek of laughter at his own words. It was dark, pitch-black, but only for a moment, then the warm orange light began to seep beneath the doorway, catching onto something on the floor, spreading toward him, above him, until orange was all he could see.