Crow Feather Quill

Michael hated public school, with as much passion as he could be expected to put in to anything. When finals roll around and suddenly you have to remember every random lecture and fact from the entire semester. Most of the conformists in this school assume that he has a GPA in the decimals. It's a fair assumption, given his attitude anf general lack luster to anything that wasn't in his interests. However, the fact of the matter is that knowledge is power. In his eyes, learning and knowing how the world truly works is one of the best ways to rebel because you can't be blinded by propaganda. Those who want to decieve you can best do so when you lack the knowledge to disprove them. So, Michael took some APs, some Honors, and now he has to deal with taking final exams and wanting to kill someone over his economics presentation.

He has a life, mind you. Poetry that should be written, video games that should be played, friends who are starting to worry. Yet, here he is hunched over a computer at 3:00am trying to figure out how to calculate the grossprofit of a fictional buisness with fake employees but real tax codes and math. Math… someone should've hit Pythagorus over the head with a cast iron before he could write down his equations. Screw that guy. His phone buzzed softly on the nightstand. Michael got up, his joints groaned from the sudden movement and he looked down at the notification. [ Pete - "You good?" ]

Michael rolled his eyes, but he enjoyed knowing someone cared. Goodness knows his parents didn't. He began to type out 'yeah, fine', before thinking it was too harsh and deleting it. He tried 'never better' but again, tone, so he deleted that too.

[ Michael - "Still alive." ] [ Pete - "Good, stay that way." ]

[ Michael - "Wasn't planning on being a different way" ]

Edward groaned softly, looking over his various statements and files. An uncomfortable amount of time was spent to painstakingly transferring his physical library of documents into a private hardrive of documents. After an incident he didn’t want to remember, it was just the safest option so as not to lose anything else.

He glanced out his window at Gotham below. He was affluent enough to have a townhouse, something actually comfortable was a minor rarity in this hellscape but thanks to crime levels, rent hardly put a dent in his pocket if he even noticed. He sat back as another massive .zip file got uploaded, startling slightly as Query walked in.

“Late night, boss man?” she asked, as she set down the file next to the copier. She placed down a mug of coffee next to him.

“Quite. … can’t believe we lost so much in that fire.” Edward mumbled, taking the drink. He inspected it briefly out of habit before drinking some.

“You have this whole big operation now… hard to see how it started.” Query said, loosely gesturing to the mountain of papers surrounding Edward.

“… why don’t I spin you a tale? This download is taking forever and I’d rather hear myself talk.” he laughed at the end of the statement, the quiet irony, before turning back to Query. “Long before there was a Riddler or even a Joker… I was a software engineer.”

“I worked for a dime a dozen tech company here in Gotham, because I saw the value in knowing code and cyber security. In a way, I suppose, Python and C++ were their own ‘riddles’ to solve and manipulate but it wasn’t truly satisfying. It paid rent, that was the only true benefit to working there… especially since Jervis was my coworker.”

“You worked with The Mad Hatter?” Query asked, genuinely invested now.

“Yes, I did. He was hardware, I was software. Hence why now his contraptions are poorly coded hardware and my work is well-encrypted viruses and malware… software.” Edward explained, casually and dismissively waving his hand.

“Sorry- boss man. Keep going.” She said, sitting down.

“Where was I… oh yes. I worked there for a few years, until I created a security system that practically shattered the current market. In my naivety I presented it to my boss who gleefully took all credit and fired me on the spot.” Edward sighed, venom lacing his words “The fat rat didn’t even consider the implication of sacking the person who made the security system meant I could just as easily mess it up.”

“Naturally, I inacted my revenge against the idiot and in the process of having full access to his computer, I found quite a treasure trove of documents. At the time, I printed for safety because a paper document cannot be hacked or erased. With that I found a new way to pay my bills, blackmail. Yes, I was able to get thousands from unsuspecting souls who didn’t want their crimes made public and in that time I adopted the moniker of The Riddler from an old puzzle book.” Edward said, pausing to take a sip of coffee.

“So… is there a world where you were never a supervillain?” Query asked, leaning forward.

“Yes, I suppose. But thats a dull world.” Edward said with a smirk.

“Yeah… guess so. So like- how did you go from a blackmailer to a bank heist guy?” Query said.

“Oh, my dear,.. you remind me why you’re ‘Query’ everyday. Regardless- I will explain. So, I was doing fine and well but at about the 3 month mark the Joker came onto the scene and at that same time I found some delicious dirt on one Oswald Cobblepot-“

“PENGUIN?!” Query exclaimed

“… yea.” Edward confirmed “I was able to completely pin him and his company for several murders and intended to just blackmail him like the rest… until he surprised me. He asked to meet in person to discuss the ‘changing wave of crime’. I agreed and met him at the Iceberg lounge in a green suit and a cheap mask.”

“He told me that my skill could be useful in a heist he was planning to put himself on the ‘costumed criminal map’ as The Penguin. … I offered my services as an outside agent, and once we found a good deal I was suddenly quite the busy man. Rogues from amateur to professional would ask for my hacking and technology prowess. But I wanted more, my own spotlight untethered by others. So now that I’d amassed a hefty bank account I started big. Hired some henchmen, sent the police a riddle, and did a heist all my own.” Edward said, gesturing to a police incident report he had framed.

“Then… why chase after the bat?” Query asked, still fully curious about Edward finally talking about his past.

“The Bat is the only person I can actually match wits to. I mean- the GCPD is a bunch of overgrown apes with guns, most Rogues are too insane for riddles, and the robins would rather dislocate my jaw. The bat though? ‘World’s Greatest Detective’… laughable, but a title I want to strip him of. One day, I assure you, the Bat will fall to me. Just as Gotham will, and everyone will know me, not him, as the smartest man in Gotham.”

“Think your file is done.” Query said, snapping Edward back to the present.

He spun around in his desk chair and smiled, quickly organising the files and put the new folder on the copier to slowly transfer over. He sighed and turned back to Query.

“Well. I won’t keep you. Have a good night, don’t get hit by a car.” Edward said dismissively as the stack of papers slowly trickled in, got copied, and trickled out.

“Night.” Query said, waving her goodbye.

Stan nervously approached Henrietta. His hands were held close to the chest, his heart racing enough to power a small city. He looked over to Kyle, who seemed about as terrified as he was. None of this was exactly to their liking.

“Hey Henrietta…? Hypothetically. If Cartman learned magic and was trying to become a real grand wizard… could he actually do that and also how screwed are we?” Stan stumbled out his words with growing fear as Henrietta went increasingly rigid.

“… start explaining before I start hexing.” Henrietta said, her voice like thunder. A small glowing wisp of magic was already flowing around her hand.

“HEY-! No one needs to hex anyone. What happened was that Cartman gave Kenny 50 bucks if he found a magic book… so he found the necronomicon and now Cartman is trying to learn it.” Kyle explained.

“As in… the trademark tome of Lovecraftian horrors?” Henrietta said through gritted teeth.

Stan and Kyle nodded. Henrietta sighed softly and pulled out her phone. She started texting a small group chat. After a couple threats of physical violence, she managed to talk her fellow goths into helping.

Richard Grayson - After the incident in the circus tent, not knowing what to do, he ran away. Within the more private spaces of Gotham, he meets Waylon Jones who offers to take in the young orphan. Waylon promises that Dick won’t be bothered by anyone else, and starts calling him Duckie (like his little duck, but also dick -> duck)

Jason Todd - Instead gets caught stealing the Penguin’s tires. Jason thinks he’s dead on the spot, but Oswald sees the moxxy in the little thing. He takes Jason in to ‘work to repay the damages’, and ends up with a right hand man.

Tim Drake - He’s obsessed with cracking codes, mysteries and wouldn’t you know it, riddles. Edward approaches Tim after his system is taken down, and sees the benefit in befriending one of the few who can best his work. Edward’s proposal is to make the puzzles instead of cracking them, which Tim agrees to.

Damien - … he just stays with Al Ghul?? Sees no need to meet his father, and doesn’t want to abandon his mom.

Barbra Gordon - She remains in the GCPD until she is hit face to face with the absolute corruption of justice that is the GCPD. However she also sees Batman as abusing vigilante justice for his own beliefs and thus seeks out Two Face as the only one who truly understands.

Stephanie Brown - She stays with her father, maybe usurps him, and takes on his passion for knowledge to be an expose of the heros in DC and what they truly stand for.

Cassandra Caine - Either: she stays an assassin and never targets the bat because he’s believed to be just a fucking cryptid. OR, Crane takes her in, finding her a fascinating subject and soon a good nimble ally as his joints begin to fail him.

Duke Thomas - I genuinely don’t know. Uh… Freeze?

SIDE THINGS:

- Waylon is absolutely enlisting help, probably Crane (southern boy friends) or some who can give him advice

- I’m not giving the Joker a Robin because that is just asking for child murder.

- I don’t think any of these situations have ‘good’ or ‘healthy’ parent figues. Dick and Tim probably got the closest to something normal.

- Just because they are under one person’s care doesn’t mean they don’t talk to others. ((Ex: I think Edward introduced Tim to Jervis at some point))

Martin Blackwood was nowhere near qualified. How he got this job is still a mystery to him, as much as it is to his coworkers. He can file papers fine, and so far wikipedia and google have allowed him to keep up some of the more unfamiliar terms. He does know people though, almost too well some would say, and he can tell that Jon is more stress than blood at the moment. He couldn’t particularly pin down what, beyond the worms, was causing this. He decided to do a little poking around and found a tea room not too far from the Institute that does afternoon tea service with little sandwiches and a list of brews. It seemed perfect.

“Absolutely not.” Jon said with cold certainty, “Why would I go with you to some tea room?”

“Because being holed up in this dank old building isn’t good for you, Jon! If not the dust, then just being alone this much. It can’t be good for your mind.” Martin pleaded. He never truly knew why Jon disliked him so much, but he was determined not to be shut down again.

“... I haven’t noticed any negative effects.” Jon deflected.

“I have! Tim certainly has. The fact that you think stalking people is okay is clear as bloody day that you need time outside, with people.” Martin argued. He watched as the archivist’s eyes shifted between invisible words, he was hoping that meant he considered it.

“Fine… but not during work hours.” Jon relented.

“Great! Yeah! What about after shift today?” Martin offered with a hopeful undertone.

“Sure.” Jon agreed.

Martin practically dashed out to his office to make a reservation at the tea room. He found the site, and now had to figure out if Jon had allergies. Probably not, right? He seemed to eat whatever was placed in front of him. Though, there are plenty of people who have allergies but just refuse to acknowledge them. Maybe Sasha would know.

He got up and walked over to Sasha’s desk, seeing her type along. Martin couldn’t help but swear she used to type faster than this. It’s probably his imagination, or she’s having an off day. The cold does funny things to your joints.

“Sasha? Do you know if Jon has any food allergies?” Martin posited.

“Mmm… I don’t recall any. Why not just ask him?” Sasha questioned, with a soft tilt of her head.

“I don’t want to annoy him any more than I have.” Martin confessed, wringing his hands together.

“What’d you do this time? Breathe near him?” Tim teased. He sipped on his mug of tea, leaning against the doorframe with a confidence Martin envied.

“Asked him to tea..?” Martin said sheepishly.

“You’re gay?!” Tim said in total shock.

“No! Well-” Martin paused for a bit too long to think it over, “No- no, I’m not gay. I think.”

“Sounds kinda gay, Martin.” Tim nudged Martin with his elbow in a playful way.

Martin’s cheeks flushed red the realisation of it all flooded him. He asked his coworker and boss out to afternoon tea, alone. They were going to a decently nice tea shop, and probably going to share a pot of some brew they both liked and walk back together. Did he accidentally ask this man on a date?! HR is going to kill him.

“Tim, I think you broke him.” Sasha said with some concern.

“Shit- I might have.” Tim laughed a little, and waved his hand in front of Martin’s face, “Hello? Earth to Martin!”

“Stop it, would you? I’m not dead!” Martin said, a bit more snippy than intended.