#ciphergrcve

randomized starters / accepting / @ciphergrcve sent . . . “?” - Aderlyine

67. “ I killed him. “

He's had his eye on a target for a while. It was a former coworker. No need to utter his name, it's something entirely generic — Christopher White. Eddie never liked the man ( though, he never liked any of his coworkers much ) But recently, he had discovered that the man had been acting dirty lately. Taking large bribes from criminal fat cats to ignore their crimes, whilst planting false evidence on the hard drives of the innocents.

Eddie kidnapped him.

Initially, he had plans of implanting Christopher in one of his traps.

When Eddie walks out of his bedroom, blood splattered on him, it's evident that isn't going to happen anymore.

❝ I killed him, ❞ Eddie confessed to Aderlyine in a mutter. He dropped himself on the couch, reaching for a notepad & a pen. As per ritual, he now has to admit to his crime in a riddle intended for Batman.

@ciphergrcve ▸ prompts from taskmaster !!

❝ so y'er eatin' it in front of me ?!?! an' NOT sharin' ??!! ❞

Riddler is really trying his patience. Not only is it downpouring in such thick sheets of rain that he can feel the cold seeping into his bones despite the fact he's wearing insulated armor, but the current riddle seems purposefully convoluted. Would Riddler purposefully give him a Riddle not meant to be solved? Batman wouldn't put it past him... WIth a frustrated growl gloved hands curl around Edward's collar and shoves him, neck first, into the nearest wall. "The last bomb... Where is it?"

The night is damp. Quiet, spare for the crickets that sung deep in the trees, and the low hum of frogs and toads. Quite peaceful, actually, if it weren't for the outlandish, wet grinding of metal on dirt that trucked through the woods.

He was sure to split a tree in half with this thing, if he tried. But his usual move-set relied on dragging the large blade behind him. A hogsplitter, to be precise, and a vintage one at that. Its rusted, aged exterior sounded even worse on asphalt or wood. Rarely did the Scarecrow need to make use for it, seeing its barely convenient nature. It did more good at weighing him down than anything else.

No, the Scarecrow chose his hogsplitter for moments where he'd like to take his time with someone. Its blows were not clean, its aim swung in a slow frenzy. But it left moments for him to soak in the person he'd have cornered beneath him. Their face, the smell of their fear.

With that in mind, the Scarecrow was looking for someone. Though he was unsure of what they'd look like tonight, having deliberately asked not to see. Just for her to run off and he'd do the rest. It felt more natural that way.

"There is power, power, / wonder-workin' power —"

His voice was low amongst the trees, as he'd run a clawed hand among the bark of each one he'd pass. No sight of Basil yet. There'd be an occasion sudden pause in his tune, expectant. Scarecrow was stalking them, hunting them down, planting the seed that there truly was no place to hide where he wouldn't find them.

It was only a matter of time. And clearly, he was enjoying himself all the while. He couldn't—no, actually, he could—imagine what he'd do to them once he caught them.

"Paid to look like you - the fuck I am! Use your eyes!"

He had two of 'em, didn't he?

In the myriad of multiple worlds, the possibilities, and the chance that this was just a delusion taking shape - Harvey Dent wasn't convinced he was the only Harvey Dent.

But this guy! Was he mocking him? A copycat?

It was taking everything not to resort to blows immediately, but no - no. He couldn't risk that right now, especially if this was a delusion -

- it was Hell just to approach this intelligently.

There's something sobering about his reaction. The crassness of it. It gives her pause, so she stops the movements. He really doesn't deserve any of this attention, does he? And, as alluring it is to engage with him due to how wrong it is, she is reminded: this is wrong.

Additionally, she has just thought of the most satisfying action she could possibly take next.

She slides off of him. Maybe he thinks it's to undress, maybe it looks that way for a moment as she tugs on her skirt, but it's ultimately revealed that this is not the case when she simply adjusts it back down to look appropriate again. Quickly, she reaches down to snatch up her cane. Then she just looks at him. Smiiiiles.