OOC INFORMATION Player: Athena Age: 22 Personal Journal:bangarang Contact Info:occults Other Characters: n/a
IC INFORMATION Characters Name: Edward Nigma ▶ The Riddler (real name: Eddie Nashton) Age: Somewhere in his early to mid 30s. 33, for the sake of consistency. Canon: DC Comics Canon Point: Pre-New 52, shortly after Gotham City Sirens #3. Species: Human Gender: Male on both accounts. Orientation: Heterosexual. He openly flirts with women, has had a suggestive relationship with his two female henchwomen and is implied to harbor some level of attraction for Catwoman.
Edward Nigma (The Riddler) | DC Comics | Reserved [2]
”It wasn’t the money I wanted. It wasn’t the action I sought. I just liked the attention.”
Imagine, if you will, That Guy. It isn’t very hard to do; you already know him because you’ve seen him in every school, at every office, standing in line at every grocery store, post office and gas station. He’s tactless and awkward, the kind of person who not only invites himself into conversations but who also jumps at the chance to prove himself – or, more specifically, prove that he’s right. For the life of him, he just can’t seem to understand why he’s not the most popular or well-liked person, but God help you if you think for one moment that he isn’t going to try his hardest to change your mind. He’s going to be somebody, damnit, because even a pompous, rude asshole gets more respect than a good for nothing nobody.
Hold that mental image. Give That Guy a swanky all-green ensemble, a predilection for riddles, and the world’s worst case of OCD, and congratulations – you’re one step closer to figuring out Edward Nigma. Granted, there are more particulars to his personality than just that, but the uglier ones are what people tend to pick up on much more quickly than the nicer ones upon meeting him for the first time. And while it would be easy to say that he’s an egocentric, self-centered jerk who would sooner die than willingly deny the world a microsecond of his greatness, the truth is that he’s much more complex than he appears to be. On the surface, Edward is flamboyant and charismatic – a born showman who takes to the limelight like a duck to water. He’s incredibly intelligent – a genius, even – and to say that he delights in proving this very simple fact to others would be a severe understatement because, at the end of the day, Edward’s intellect isn’t just his defining characteristic: it’s his crutch. He speaks verbosely and articulately, engaging in clever wordplay as a means of both showing off and testing the company he’s in to see if they’re smart enough to be worth his time, and has an unflappable, charismatic air about him that lends itself very well to furthering the impression that this is a man born for the stage. Ironically and kind of predictably, this is also what alienates him from others.
See, Edward isn’t just a genius – he’s an insufferable genius who will leap upon every chance he gets to prove to others that he’s intelligent. His need for attention matches his intelligence; everything he’s done, every impulse he’s had and even the persona he’s crafted for himself over the years as the Riddler, a criminal mastermind characterized by his use of riddles and wordgames, has been molded by an unhealthy obsession for acknowledgment which goes all the way back to his childhood, back when he wasn’t Edward Nigma but Eddie Nashton. As a child prodigy, the fact that Eddie was different from his peers was something that was always used against him, be it by the rest of his classmates or his abusive, delusional father. If he wasn’t being bullied at school, he was being beaten by his father who was convinced that his son was smarter than him. As a result of growing up in such an abysmal, loveless environment, Edward learned how to play the system at a very young age, learning quickly that the easiest way to gain recognition was to cheat. When a contest was announced at his school with a prize offered to the first child who could solve a supposedly impossible puzzle, Edward quickly leaped upon the chance to participate and even went so far as to sneak into his teacher’s office after school so he could practice the puzzle over and over again until he knew how to beat it within a few seconds. This behavior only worsened as he grew, as did his need for attention. Finding work at a carnival managing a rigged game booth wasn’t enough, and neither was working as a delivery man. Even when he finally seemed to find his niche in the criminal underworld as an informant and safecracker, it still wasn’t what he wanted because he wasn't the center of attention. In that respect, he’s the best suited to life in Gotham City as a supervillain because it indulges his perpetually hungry desire to be noticed and admired.
He doesn’t see breaking the law as a means to an end for the sake of making a quick buck (although you can never have too much money, make no mistake there!). No, when he breaks the law, it’s art. He openly brags about this like it makes him unique and special, acting like he’s God’s gift to organized crime, so it doesn’t really come as any surprise that even amongst his fellow rogues he’s considered a tremendous prick. Still, being the type who prefers brains over brawn, he's forced to make use of allies, minions and the occasional team-up. In a weird way, this makes him even more of a threat because he always has to be one step ahead of his enemies, so he’s always scheming and plotting. Ultimately, he always ends up undone by his own pride in some form or another or, more tragically, by his insanity that manifests itself as a bizarre, self-destructive form of OCD. He has to leave a clue at the scene of a crime. He has to come up with some convoluted riddle in the form of a trap or an ambush. Even when Stephanie Brown, the daughter of one of his old partners, comes to him with questions about her father, he talks to her in riddles and doesn’t let up even when she’s on the verge of pummeling his face in. In stark contrast to some of Batman’s other well-known rogues like Zsasz, Poison Ivy and Maxie Zeus, Edward is completely aware that he’s mentally ill and reacts very strongly when his issues are brought up. This is how Batman is able to beat him when he finally solves the riddle of his identity. Preying upon his arrogance and addiction to puzzles, Bruce reasons that Edward would never go public with his identity because a riddle that everyone knows the answer to is worthless. Edward, of course, concedes.
Of course it helps that he also threatened to sic the League of Assassins on him, but that excuse is much less edgy and tragic, so who cares?
Following a severe head injury during the height of an organized villain attack on Metropolis in Infinite Crisis, Edward spends the following year in a coma. When he awakens, he discovers two things: number one, he appears to have amnesia, and number two, the worst of his OCD has been curbed meaning he no longer has an obsession with riddles. This brings us to the next side of his personality: that of a reformed criminal. After discovering that independent detective work and security consulting is much more lucrative than robbing banks, Edward decides to try his hand at going straight and working as PI. This is hardly as selfless as one would imagine it to be. Once again, going back to his sole reason for becoming a criminal in the first place, he’s not in it for the money or the excitement. Rather, he’s in it for the fame. From the moment he makes his debut as a detective working on a well-publicized murder case shortly after he awakens from his year-long coma, it’s plain to see that Edward takes to his new life very well, putting on a show for the media and turning even a simple interrogation into a flashy show with cheek and wit. He doesn’t fare much better when he’s forced to team up with his former archenemy Batman; he doesn’t hesitate to flaunt how valuable his criminal input is with a case like this and still finds it in himself to throw quips around when Bruce lets him ride in the Batmobile (“Nice car. First time I’ve ever been inside it conscious.”).
Still, there are some noticeable improvements. His arrogance has mellowed out considerably in the years following his reformation. The sarcasm remains, but it’s not malicious so much as it is prickly. Empathy also comes easier, but selflessness? Still a major work in progress. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments of genuine kindness, though; he gives in and agrees to help Selina and Ivy find Harley even after initially and adamantly refusing, he helps the three of them clear their name when they’re framed for murder, and he even offers to let Batman share the limelight with him following the end of a particularly harrowing (and for Bruce, personal) murder case. His softer side is further evidenced in his interactions with Oswald Cobblepot, aka the Penguin. When Cobblepot decides to stay in Gotham where a group of Intergang hitmen are due to be arriving with orders to kill him on sight, he tries to talk him out of staying and even goes so far as to give an awkward but heartfelt confession that he’s always considered the other man a friend and intellectual equal. No one pressured him to do or say these things. Even when he’s given an opportunity to make off with a batch of expensive and highly secretive experimental chemicals that Wayne Enterprises hires him to find, he ultimately does the right thing and returns them to their rightful owner despite that it would be more profitable to sell them illegally.
Nonetheless, he can still be very vindictive and even sadistic if the opportunity is presented to him. The Riddler never was known for being one of Batman’s crueler villains, and although he genuinely seems to be trying to stay out of trouble, that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten his darker side. When he and Batman are attacked by an armed thug, he shoots the man with a flaming arrow and would rather watch and taunt him as he burns, leaving Batman to rescue him. He lies as easily as he breathes and will routinely wheel and deal to save his skin, preferring guile above all else to outsmart his enemies. To further add to his vicious potential, he was also at one point years ago possessed by the demon Barbathos, resulting in a brutal, inhumanly cruel Riddler who was perfectly willing to kill on a whim and even drag innocent children into his games with Batman, something unheard of when it comes to him. While it definitely can be argued that he was not in complete control of his actions, Barbathos was in no way forcing him to do any of these things against his will; the potential was there and all the demon had to do was prey upon these desires and amplify them.
His past is still a very sore subject for him but, true to form, he always tries to either make light of it or avoid addressing it altogether. Whenever Edward is forced to confront it, he almost always does with an undertone of bitter discomfort. When the husband of one of his past victims attempts to murder him, he reacts with hostility when Batman shows up to save him, arguing that he can’t even remember half of the things he did as the Riddler. While that may be true to a degree, he doesn’t show much regret when pressed on it; if he has any, it’s most definitely kept hidden away along with the rest of his insecurities.
”Riddle me this, Eddie: how many more shattered people are out there who owe their miseries to your antics?” “Look in the mirror and repeat the question, Bats. We’ll have coffee sometime and trade answers.”
In spite of his egocentric ways and quirkiness, Edward is in essence a very insecure person who masks his feelings of inadequacy and loneliness with charm and smarm. He tries to come across as sophisticated and witty, and sometimes it works but other times it just isolates him even more from others. The abuse he’s endured from his father has left a deep mark on his psyche; it’s implied at some point that he was beaten so severely in his childhood that he had begun to sincerely believe everything his father had said about him, that he was a moron, an idiot, a cheater, so by the time he did manage to genuinely gain recognition for his intelligence at school even he couldn’t believe that he didn’t cheat. He has a self-loathing streak and routinely evens his cockiness out with moments where he mentally browbeats himself, arguing that what he’s doing is pointless and that his reformation is a “Good Samaritan act” even if he doesn’t quite believe it himself. He wants to have friends and wants to believe that there are people in his life who could very well be his best friends (Oswald, Selina, Harley), but he’s been betrayed far too many times to really find it in himself to truly trust them and their intentions.
Ultimately, Eddie is That Guy but he’s also so much more – and he has the potential to be something even greater. He’s dramatic, eccentric and egotistical; petty, high-strung and bratty, but also awkward, well-meaning and charming in his own strange but sincere way. As he seeks to understand who he is, was, and will become, the riddle becomes even more contrived and convoluted. Maybe it's impossible to change who he is at his core, but until then, he's going to hang on and enjoy the ride for as long as possible.
And besides, if Dick Grayson could give him props for trying, then really, how bad can he be?
Edward Nigma (The Riddler) | DC Comics | Reserved [3]
Abilities: Canonically, Edward has no real powers. In the past he’s been injected with Venom, a highly-addictive super steroid that gives its users increased strength, speed and stamina, but that was a one-time occurrence and the effects have long since worn off. Likewise, he was once possessed by the bat demon Barbathos whose influence amplified his already dark desires by turning him into a cruel, vicious monster, but again, that was years in the past and Barbathos has long since been exorcised from him. He isn’t physically imposing or threatening; in a straight-up fistfight against someone with real talent, he’d most definitely lose. Endurance seems to be the only thing he has going for him in this case; while he can’t dish out too many heavy hits, he’s sure good at taking a lot of them.
To compensate for this, he boasts a variety of cerebral abilities that make use of his genius intellect. He has a complex understanding of puzzles, able to solve incredibly challenging ones on a whim and devise equally fiendish ones in turn. While this has lent itself nicely to concocting convolutedbrilliant and artfully crafted schemes that have led the police in circles in the past, or made it easy to create ridiculouswicked and nigh-impossible death traps for Batman to solve, these days he employs his skills strictly for detective work. He’s also a very talented hacker, able to break into well-guarded systems and networks on par with Wayne Enterprise's security, and has shown in the past that he has some understanding of engineering. Who else do you think designed all of those fucking stupiduniquely cunning traps? By this point, saying that he also has a knack for manipulation would be redundant. Additionally, like the rest of the Arkahmites, he's an old pro at escaping restraints, including and especially straightjackets and handcuffs. Locks are just metal puzzles, after all.
Lastly, although Edward isn’t the kind of person you’d want watching your back in a fight, when push comes to shove he can be surprisingly skilled with that cane he’s always carrying around with him. Its use as a bludgeoning tool or as something far more technologically advanced than it appears to be varies from depiction to depiction, but some versions have it so that he keeps a concealed blade hidden inside it.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female. Caucasian. Commuted to Gotham University, lived at home with her father. Divorced. Male, forty-eight. Worked the night shift on the evening Mary’s body was found at the corner of Fox and Gardner.
He repeats the words mentally now, but he can’t help it when one or two slip out all the same, a dull, quiet whisperhum lost amidst the drone of Gotham rush hour. It’s almost six o’clock, already too late to be outside in this part of the city especially when the thirty minute drive back to the office he has to look forward to has just been doubled, but his concentration is precious. Time, less so. It isn’t the most popular opinion to hold in this line of work, he’ll admit that; God knows he’d have to endure a nice slew of dirty looks from the peanut gallery for thinking that he has all the time in the world to figure this little mystery out (Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female. Caucasian. Commuted to -), but it isn’t like he doesn’t get his share of those already just for walking into view where they can see him. A few nasty glares won’t hurt him, no more than they could hurt poor Ms. Applegate right now, he supposes.
Still, it’s a little odd that he hasn’t encountered any resistance yet. He’s been here for a good three hours and not once has he encountered any of the officers who should still be lurking around the area. The perimeter is still taped off. That’s a good thing. The body’s long since been removed, but the outline still remains. That’s even better. At least he has a model to imitate, to contort his body over for maximum authenticity. It’s a lot harder when he has to rely on the impromptu ones he has to make on the floor in his office. Brilliant as his eidetic memory is, you just can’t beat the real thing. It does wonders for the brainstorming process and he couldn’t ask for more.
The sun is already beginning to descend behind a pair of fluffy clouds, allowing him to finally open his eyes without squinting. Three hours, almost three and half. Focus.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female.
Her father had an alibi. His office was all the way across town. He would’ve had to sprout wings it make it back from Fox and Gardner within twenty minutes, and the police seemed plenty eager to get him out of the picture, so there’s that. Probably intended to pin the blame on Mary’s boyfriend; an old classic in the world of lazy, sloppy police work. Clearly they’re missing something, no doubt there. Picking the case apart from the seams to weed out the inconsistencies, the hidden gem of truth concealed within mounds and mounds of falsehoods and red herrings, that’s where the real game is.
And it can be a very fun game, too. A rewarding one. But what he needs to do now is focus.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female.
Mary left for her evening classes at five thirty. Her father left for work at six. They had two cars, but his was at the mechanic’s for repairs, forcing him to take the bus to work when Mary wasn’t using the car. That evening, she was. Witnesses had spotted her father boarding the five thirty eastbound bus across from their apartment building, exactly within the time frame her body was found all the way across town.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen.
Her boyfriend was already on campus at the time. Easy pick. But the father – there’s something odd here that doesn’t match up with his testimony.
Focus.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female. Her father was adamant that she had spoken to him earlier about meeting her boyfriend for an early dinner on campus before her Sociology class. They had two cars, but his was at the mechanic’s for repairs, forcing him to take the bus to work when Mary wasn’t using the car. Mr. Applegate worked at PRC, a company that managed customer relations for bigger brand organizations. He was a code monkey. Worked late hours. Seen at the bus stop at five-thirty, right when Mary would have been killed. Usually left with a co-worker, the only other person in their building who worked at the company.
Mary Applegate.
It’s right there, clear as day. He can feel a headache coming on, a bitter twinge of mental frustration and then –
Mary Applegate, was it really your father they saw waiting for the five-thirty bus?
And then it hits him like a rocket, exploding in a fireball of light and iridescence and good God does he love the feeling. It’s discovery and triumph and victory all rolled into one neat little package; even the spasm of pain that zig-zags up his poor cramped back as he jolts up into a sitting position does little to ruin the moment.
Neither does Officer Friendly who chooses this precise second to come ambling around the corner.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Save it,” Edward replies blithely with a wave of his hand, grabbing his cane from off the ground as he quickly climbs to his feet. Laying on the street for a good portion of the afternoon hasn’t been kind to him, but it’s a lot better than sticking around to listen to the cop sputter and choke out threats and curses and how dare he, how dare he tamper with a crime scene, the nerve, the blah blah blah blah. White noise, really.
It can be a very fun game, Edward thinks. And, as he starts to hurry along down the street where his car is parked, he realizes that it never really stops being fun because he always knows what he’s getting into. He knows what to expect because these games always begin and end the same: with three words.
I’m gonna win.
Edward Nigma (The Riddler) | DC Comics | Reserved [4]
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Edward Nigma (The Riddler) | DC Comics | Reserved [1]
Player: Athena
Age: 22
Personal Journal:
Contact Info:
Other Characters: n/a
IC INFORMATION
Characters Name: Edward Nigma ▶ The Riddler (real name: Eddie Nashton)
Age: Somewhere in his early to mid 30s. 33, for the sake of consistency.
Canon: DC Comics
Canon Point: Pre-New 52, shortly after Gotham City Sirens #3.
Species: Human
Gender: Male on both accounts.
Orientation: Heterosexual. He openly flirts with women, has had a suggestive relationship with his two female henchwomen and is implied to harbor some level of attraction for Catwoman.
Edward Nigma (The Riddler) | DC Comics | Reserved [2]
Appearance: Here
Personality:
Imagine, if you will, That Guy. It isn’t very hard to do; you already know him because you’ve seen him in every school, at every office, standing in line at every grocery store, post office and gas station. He’s tactless and awkward, the kind of person who not only invites himself into conversations but who also jumps at the chance to prove himself – or, more specifically, prove that he’s right. For the life of him, he just can’t seem to understand why he’s not the most popular or well-liked person, but God help you if you think for one moment that he isn’t going to try his hardest to change your mind. He’s going to be somebody, damnit, because even a pompous, rude asshole gets more respect than a good for nothing nobody.
Hold that mental image. Give That Guy a swanky all-green ensemble, a predilection for riddles, and the world’s worst case of OCD, and congratulations – you’re one step closer to figuring out Edward Nigma. Granted, there are more particulars to his personality than just that, but the uglier ones are what people tend to pick up on much more quickly than the nicer ones upon meeting him for the first time. And while it would be easy to say that he’s an egocentric, self-centered jerk who would sooner die than willingly deny the world a microsecond of his greatness, the truth is that he’s much more complex than he appears to be. On the surface, Edward is flamboyant and charismatic – a born showman who takes to the limelight like a duck to water. He’s incredibly intelligent – a genius, even – and to say that he delights in proving this very simple fact to others would be a severe understatement because, at the end of the day, Edward’s intellect isn’t just his defining characteristic: it’s his crutch. He speaks verbosely and articulately, engaging in clever wordplay as a means of both showing off and testing the company he’s in to see if they’re smart enough to be worth his time, and has an unflappable, charismatic air about him that lends itself very well to furthering the impression that this is a man born for the stage. Ironically and kind of predictably, this is also what alienates him from others.
See, Edward isn’t just a genius – he’s an insufferable genius who will leap upon every chance he gets to prove to others that he’s intelligent. His need for attention matches his intelligence; everything he’s done, every impulse he’s had and even the persona he’s crafted for himself over the years as the Riddler, a criminal mastermind characterized by his use of riddles and wordgames, has been molded by an unhealthy obsession for acknowledgment which goes all the way back to his childhood, back when he wasn’t Edward Nigma but Eddie Nashton. As a child prodigy, the fact that Eddie was different from his peers was something that was always used against him, be it by the rest of his classmates or his abusive, delusional father. If he wasn’t being bullied at school, he was being beaten by his father who was convinced that his son was smarter than him. As a result of growing up in such an abysmal, loveless environment, Edward learned how to play the system at a very young age, learning quickly that the easiest way to gain recognition was to cheat. When a contest was announced at his school with a prize offered to the first child who could solve a supposedly impossible puzzle, Edward quickly leaped upon the chance to participate and even went so far as to sneak into his teacher’s office after school so he could practice the puzzle over and over again until he knew how to beat it within a few seconds. This behavior only worsened as he grew, as did his need for attention. Finding work at a carnival managing a rigged game booth wasn’t enough, and neither was working as a delivery man. Even when he finally seemed to find his niche in the criminal underworld as an informant and safecracker, it still wasn’t what he wanted because he wasn't the center of attention. In that respect, he’s the best suited to life in Gotham City as a supervillain because it indulges his perpetually hungry desire to be noticed and admired.
He doesn’t see breaking the law as a means to an end for the sake of making a quick buck (although you can never have too much money, make no mistake there!). No, when he breaks the law, it’s art. He openly brags about this like it makes him unique and special, acting like he’s God’s gift to organized crime, so it doesn’t really come as any surprise that even amongst his fellow rogues he’s considered a tremendous prick. Still, being the type who prefers brains over brawn, he's forced to make use of allies, minions and the occasional team-up. In a weird way, this makes him even more of a threat because he always has to be one step ahead of his enemies, so he’s always scheming and plotting. Ultimately, he always ends up undone by his own pride in some form or another or, more tragically, by his insanity that manifests itself as a bizarre, self-destructive form of OCD. He has to leave a clue at the scene of a crime. He has to come up with some convoluted riddle in the form of a trap or an ambush. Even when Stephanie Brown, the daughter of one of his old partners, comes to him with questions about her father, he talks to her in riddles and doesn’t let up even when she’s on the verge of pummeling his face in. In stark contrast to some of Batman’s other well-known rogues like Zsasz, Poison Ivy and Maxie Zeus, Edward is completely aware that he’s mentally ill and reacts very strongly when his issues are brought up. This is how Batman is able to beat him when he finally solves the riddle of his identity. Preying upon his arrogance and addiction to puzzles, Bruce reasons that Edward would never go public with his identity because a riddle that everyone knows the answer to is worthless. Edward, of course, concedes.
Of course it helps that he also threatened to sic the League of Assassins on him, but that excuse is much less edgy and tragic, so who cares?Following a severe head injury during the height of an organized villain attack on Metropolis in Infinite Crisis, Edward spends the following year in a coma. When he awakens, he discovers two things: number one, he appears to have amnesia, and number two, the worst of his OCD has been curbed meaning he no longer has an obsession with riddles. This brings us to the next side of his personality: that of a reformed criminal. After discovering that independent detective work and security consulting is much more lucrative than robbing banks, Edward decides to try his hand at going straight and working as PI. This is hardly as selfless as one would imagine it to be. Once again, going back to his sole reason for becoming a criminal in the first place, he’s not in it for the money or the excitement. Rather, he’s in it for the fame. From the moment he makes his debut as a detective working on a well-publicized murder case shortly after he awakens from his year-long coma, it’s plain to see that Edward takes to his new life very well, putting on a show for the media and turning even a simple interrogation into a flashy show with cheek and wit. He doesn’t fare much better when he’s forced to team up with his former archenemy Batman; he doesn’t hesitate to flaunt how valuable his criminal input is with a case like this and still finds it in himself to throw quips around when Bruce lets him ride in the Batmobile (“Nice car. First time I’ve ever been inside it conscious.”).
Still, there are some noticeable improvements. His arrogance has mellowed out considerably in the years following his reformation. The sarcasm remains, but it’s not malicious so much as it is prickly. Empathy also comes easier, but selflessness? Still a major work in progress. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments of genuine kindness, though; he gives in and agrees to help Selina and Ivy find Harley even after initially and adamantly refusing, he helps the three of them clear their name when they’re framed for murder, and he even offers to let Batman share the limelight with him following the end of a particularly harrowing (and for Bruce, personal) murder case. His softer side is further evidenced in his interactions with Oswald Cobblepot, aka the Penguin. When Cobblepot decides to stay in Gotham where a group of Intergang hitmen are due to be arriving with orders to kill him on sight, he tries to talk him out of staying and even goes so far as to give an awkward but heartfelt confession that he’s always considered the other man a friend and intellectual equal. No one pressured him to do or say these things. Even when he’s given an opportunity to make off with a batch of expensive and highly secretive experimental chemicals that Wayne Enterprises hires him to find, he ultimately does the right thing and returns them to their rightful owner despite that it would be more profitable to sell them illegally.
Nonetheless, he can still be very vindictive and even sadistic if the opportunity is presented to him. The Riddler never was known for being one of Batman’s crueler villains, and although he genuinely seems to be trying to stay out of trouble, that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten his darker side. When he and Batman are attacked by an armed thug, he shoots the man with a flaming arrow and would rather watch and taunt him as he burns, leaving Batman to rescue him. He lies as easily as he breathes and will routinely wheel and deal to save his skin, preferring guile above all else to outsmart his enemies. To further add to his vicious potential, he was also at one point years ago possessed by the demon Barbathos, resulting in a brutal, inhumanly cruel Riddler who was perfectly willing to kill on a whim and even drag innocent children into his games with Batman, something unheard of when it comes to him. While it definitely can be argued that he was not in complete control of his actions, Barbathos was in no way forcing him to do any of these things against his will; the potential was there and all the demon had to do was prey upon these desires and amplify them.
His past is still a very sore subject for him but, true to form, he always tries to either make light of it or avoid addressing it altogether. Whenever Edward is forced to confront it, he almost always does with an undertone of bitter discomfort. When the husband of one of his past victims attempts to murder him, he reacts with hostility when Batman shows up to save him, arguing that he can’t even remember half of the things he did as the Riddler. While that may be true to a degree, he doesn’t show much regret when pressed on it; if he has any, it’s most definitely kept hidden away along with the rest of his insecurities.
“Look in the mirror and repeat the question, Bats. We’ll have coffee sometime and trade answers.”
In spite of his egocentric ways and quirkiness, Edward is in essence a very insecure person who masks his feelings of inadequacy and loneliness with charm and smarm. He tries to come across as sophisticated and witty, and sometimes it works but other times it just isolates him even more from others. The abuse he’s endured from his father has left a deep mark on his psyche; it’s implied at some point that he was beaten so severely in his childhood that he had begun to sincerely believe everything his father had said about him, that he was a moron, an idiot, a cheater, so by the time he did manage to genuinely gain recognition for his intelligence at school even he couldn’t believe that he didn’t cheat. He has a self-loathing streak and routinely evens his cockiness out with moments where he mentally browbeats himself, arguing that what he’s doing is pointless and that his reformation is a “Good Samaritan act” even if he doesn’t quite believe it himself. He wants to have friends and wants to believe that there are people in his life who could very well be his best friends (Oswald, Selina, Harley), but he’s been betrayed far too many times to really find it in himself to truly trust them and their intentions.
Ultimately, Eddie is That Guy but he’s also so much more – and he has the potential to be something even greater. He’s dramatic, eccentric and egotistical; petty, high-strung and bratty, but also awkward, well-meaning and charming in his own strange but sincere way. As he seeks to understand who he is, was, and will become, the riddle becomes even more contrived and convoluted. Maybe it's impossible to change who he is at his core, but until then, he's going to hang on and enjoy the ride for as long as possible.
And besides, if Dick Grayson could give him props for trying, then really, how bad can he be?
Edward Nigma (The Riddler) | DC Comics | Reserved [3]
To compensate for this, he boasts a variety of cerebral abilities that make use of his genius intellect. He has a complex understanding of puzzles, able to solve incredibly challenging ones on a whim and devise equally fiendish ones in turn. While this has lent itself nicely to concocting
convolutedbrilliant and artfully crafted schemes that have led the police in circles in the past, or made it easy to createridiculouswicked and nigh-impossible death traps for Batman to solve, these days he employs his skills strictly for detective work. He’s also a very talented hacker, able to break into well-guarded systems and networks on par with Wayne Enterprise's security, and has shown in the past that he has some understanding of engineering. Who else do you think designed all of thosefucking stupiduniquely cunning traps? By this point, saying that he also has a knack for manipulation would be redundant. Additionally, like the rest of the Arkahmites, he's an old pro at escaping restraints, including and especially straightjackets and handcuffs. Locks are just metal puzzles, after all.Lastly, although Edward isn’t the kind of person you’d want watching your back in a fight, when push comes to shove he can be surprisingly skilled with that cane he’s always carrying around with him. Its use as a bludgeoning tool or as something far more technologically advanced than it appears to be varies from depiction to depiction, but some versions have it so that he keeps a concealed blade hidden inside it.
Other: n/a
SAMPLES
First Person: Here!
Third Person:
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female. Caucasian. Commuted to Gotham University, lived at home with her father. Divorced. Male, forty-eight. Worked the night shift on the evening Mary’s body was found at the corner of Fox and Gardner.
He repeats the words mentally now, but he can’t help it when one or two slip out all the same, a dull, quiet whisperhum lost amidst the drone of Gotham rush hour. It’s almost six o’clock, already too late to be outside in this part of the city especially when the thirty minute drive back to the office he has to look forward to has just been doubled, but his concentration is precious. Time, less so. It isn’t the most popular opinion to hold in this line of work, he’ll admit that; God knows he’d have to endure a nice slew of dirty looks from the peanut gallery for thinking that he has all the time in the world to figure this little mystery out (Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female. Caucasian. Commuted to -), but it isn’t like he doesn’t get his share of those already just for walking into view where they can see him. A few nasty glares won’t hurt him, no more than they could hurt poor Ms. Applegate right now, he supposes.
Still, it’s a little odd that he hasn’t encountered any resistance yet. He’s been here for a good three hours and not once has he encountered any of the officers who should still be lurking around the area. The perimeter is still taped off. That’s a good thing. The body’s long since been removed, but the outline still remains. That’s even better. At least he has a model to imitate, to contort his body over for maximum authenticity. It’s a lot harder when he has to rely on the impromptu ones he has to make on the floor in his office. Brilliant as his eidetic memory is, you just can’t beat the real thing. It does wonders for the brainstorming process and he couldn’t ask for more.
The sun is already beginning to descend behind a pair of fluffy clouds, allowing him to finally open his eyes without squinting. Three hours, almost three and half. Focus.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female.
Her father had an alibi. His office was all the way across town. He would’ve had to sprout wings it make it back from Fox and Gardner within twenty minutes, and the police seemed plenty eager to get him out of the picture, so there’s that. Probably intended to pin the blame on Mary’s boyfriend; an old classic in the world of lazy, sloppy police work. Clearly they’re missing something, no doubt there. Picking the case apart from the seams to weed out the inconsistencies, the hidden gem of truth concealed within mounds and mounds of falsehoods and red herrings, that’s where the real game is.
And it can be a very fun game, too. A rewarding one. But what he needs to do now is focus.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female.
Mary left for her evening classes at five thirty. Her father left for work at six. They had two cars, but his was at the mechanic’s for repairs, forcing him to take the bus to work when Mary wasn’t using the car. That evening, she was. Witnesses had spotted her father boarding the five thirty eastbound bus across from their apartment building, exactly within the time frame her body was found all the way across town.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen.
Her boyfriend was already on campus at the time. Easy pick. But the father – there’s something odd here that doesn’t match up with his testimony.
Focus.
Mary Applegate. Nineteen, female. Her father was adamant that she had spoken to him earlier about meeting her boyfriend for an early dinner on campus before her Sociology class. They had two cars, but his was at the mechanic’s for repairs, forcing him to take the bus to work when Mary wasn’t using the car. Mr. Applegate worked at PRC, a company that managed customer relations for bigger brand organizations. He was a code monkey. Worked late hours. Seen at the bus stop at five-thirty, right when Mary would have been killed. Usually left with a co-worker, the only other person in their building who worked at the company.
Mary Applegate.
It’s right there, clear as day. He can feel a headache coming on, a bitter twinge of mental frustration and then –
Mary Applegate, was it really your father they saw waiting for the five-thirty bus?
And then it hits him like a rocket, exploding in a fireball of light and iridescence and good God does he love the feeling. It’s discovery and triumph and victory all rolled into one neat little package; even the spasm of pain that zig-zags up his poor cramped back as he jolts up into a sitting position does little to ruin the moment.
Neither does Officer Friendly who chooses this precise second to come ambling around the corner.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Save it,” Edward replies blithely with a wave of his hand, grabbing his cane from off the ground as he quickly climbs to his feet. Laying on the street for a good portion of the afternoon hasn’t been kind to him, but it’s a lot better than sticking around to listen to the cop sputter and choke out threats and curses and how dare he, how dare he tamper with a crime scene, the nerve, the blah blah blah blah. White noise, really.
It can be a very fun game, Edward thinks. And, as he starts to hurry along down the street where his car is parked, he realizes that it never really stops being fun because he always knows what he’s getting into. He knows what to expect because these games always begin and end the same: with three words.
I’m gonna win.
Edward Nigma (The Riddler) | DC Comics | Reserved [4]
Housing Request?: If possible, I'd like him to be housed with the Harley Quinn who's apping in, please!
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Accepted
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