#riddlman

christmas / holiday starters

Jonathan casts Edward a glare out of the corner of his eye, spidery fingers of one hand wrapped around his cup of eggnog. 

He has no idea whose idea it was to allow the inmates to have eggnog and he isn’t certain who had managed to sneak in the booze to spike it with (he’s currently theorising it was one of the guards instead of any of his fellow patients; it isn’t like Arkham staff are actually competent or anything), but he’s thankful that both of these things have happened. He’d needed a drink after getting thrown into this fucking asylum again - even more so after finding out they had actually decorated the place for the Christmas season.

He’s well-aware of how he looks: his hair’s a mess, he hasn’t shaved in a while and so he’s acquired a five o’clock shadow, he hasn’t gotten much sleep and the shadows under his eyes are fine proof of this. Jonathan, of course, doesn’t care. His mood is too low to care.

He stares Edward down as he raises his cup and takes another couple of gulps, then he clears his throat. “Cut me some slack, Ed. It’s the only thing keepin’ me going through this...” he gestures vaguely at the rest of the mess hall, specifically at the Christmas decorations hanging everywhere, “...shindig.”

                        She should be USED to this by now - having the eyes of another constantly on her. The day she forced her body to be exhumed from that ( ALMOST ) tomb was the day the world got to see a LIVING DEAD GIRL. Although much of her limbs remained intact and although her head hadn’t been pulled apart, SHE DID DIE THAT DAY - something within her soul just wasn’t the same ( BUT SHE CLAIMS IT HAD BEEN PURIFIED ). She remembers what it felt like to no longer be a ghost; to no longer be able to wander. She remembers when the first stranger tried to EAT HER WITH HIS EYES, but kept his teeth to himself the entire time he talked. But he was a reporter - isn’t that what he was supposed to do? She remembers how odd it was to suddenly be seen by people who once cared LESS if she perished… But when she ACHED to be alive, suddenly everyone wanted to know how they too could cheat death. HOW FUCKING FOOLISH - she didn’t carry that kind of antidote, in fact she was made into the same MONSTER.                       But when the eyes of this other suddenly fell upon her frame, she didn’t feel their need to KNOW. She didn’t feel that curiosity, that fascination, that surprise to see her scars. She didn’t feel like this heathen KNEW her or that they saw her on TV. No - those eyes seemed to CHALLENGE her when she walked into the room, as if they made her entirety into an enemy IN AN INSTANT. For once, that was refreshing - just being seen as something that wasn’t a FREAKSHOW. A pity her own eyes can’t communicate appreciation. Instead, they remain dormant, dead, and DETATCHED. But instead of keeping the other at a distance, she chose to approach this antagonist with full intent of understanding their INTENTIONS. And if they are as awful as they seem, then at least it’s HONEST… Because that’s not much she can say for other people.  

                            ❛ You want an autograph OR AM I JUST THAT PRETTY? ❜

DELETE

it’s a miracle!!!

Sage is nowhere to be found in the apartment; all that graces the table is a card bearing Ed’s name in their flowing script.

Dearest Ed,

I hope you will forgive my absence, but it’s for good reason, I promise. Inside this box, you’ll find the tools to start the game I’ve planned for you. Solve each riddle to get the clue to the next location. See you soon.

XOXO, Doll

P.S. Make sure you mark down your locations on the map, love. You’ll need them later.

Behind it, sits a locked box. He’ll have to crack the combination, but that’s nothing compared to what they have planned for tonight. Inside is map of Gotham divided with a simple grid (each square corresponding to a letter-number pair), a pencil, and the first riddle.