Chapter Text
Edward sat up on the mattress in the dingy motel room he’d bought for the night. ‘Disgusting,’ he thought as he climbed off the stained bed. He took a quick shower and got dressed. He made a face at the state of his suit, and wondered if he might make enough money to get some simple repairs. He fussed with his hair and his general appearance for about an hour before deciding he looked good enough and walked out the door into the Gotham streets.
Edward walked through the streets, avoiding the police sirens and alleys as he made his way to his usual spot. He plastered a smile onto his face as he began his usual routine. Edward walked up to someone he’d never seen before. “Well hello there! Got a minute to solve a riddle?”
“A riddle?” The guy questioned with a thick raised eyebrow. “What are we, children?”
Edward suppressed an eye roll at the comment and kept his immaculate smile. “Here, I’ll cut you a deal! You get the riddle wrong, you give me $50. If you get it right, I’ll give you $100!” He offered, studying the guy’s expression.
He smirked. “Alright, kid, sure. I know a good amount of riddles, I doubt you can stump me!”
Bingo. Edward, with a wry grin, said, “riddle me this: What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?”
The guy scoffed smugly. “A towel! Everyone knows that riddle, kid. Now hand over the money!”
Edward gave a bored expression. “Yes, I suppose that is a pretty easy one. How about this. I’ll do a slightly harder one, and up the ante! If you get it right, I’ll give you $200 instead of $100. But if you get it wrong, you have to give me $100 instead of $50!”
Edward had always appreciated cockiness. It was one of the common person’s greatest weaknesses. People were so easy to egg into overestimating themselves. How dull. “Alright,” the guy said with a sneer, “I bet I can solve it.”
“Okay,” Edward spoke, “riddle me this: I can be long, or I can be short. I can be grown, I can be bought. I can be painted, or left bare. I can be round, or I can be square. What am I?” Edward asked the riddle, the words falling out of his mouth with ease. He hated this riddle; it was nonsensical. But he loved seeing others struggle with the nonsensical riddles.
“The fuck kinda bullshit riddle is that?!” The guy sputtered. “I take it back! Gimme my money for the first one!”
Edward wagged his finger. “Ah, ah, ahh, you agreed to the deal! Answer the riddle, or pay up, my friend.”
The man scowled at Edward, his face turning red. “You little weasel!”
“Insulting me won’t get you anywhere, friend! It’s a simple riddle, really. At least simple for me! Just answer!” Edward knew the dangers of egging someone on that was twice his size, especially here in Gotham city, but he knew how to handle himself if the guy happened to try anything. “Do you want me to repeat the riddle?”
The guy frowned, his already ugly mug turning uglier with the action. “Fine, weasel. Repeat it. I bet I can answer!”
Edward repeated the riddle and waited as the guy thought. He counted the minutes. Five minutes and 39 seconds went by before the guy finally sighed. He took $100 out of his wallet and handed it to Edward. “Here. What’s the answer, anyway?”
Edward raised his hand backwards so the guy could see the back of it, and waggled his fingers. “Fingernails!” Edward replied gleefully.
The man rolled his beady eyes and grumbled as he walked away. Edward sighed in relief, knowing he’d be safe for now.
Edward’s day went on much like that. He could almost always pull people into giving him $100. Sometimes, if he was feeling greedy, he’d pull people into giving him $300 or $400. It was easy, especially with people who got cocky. He could tell intelligence pretty quickly, and asked seemingly hard riddles to them. “Alright, this one’s pretty hard, but remember, if you win, I give you $400 and if you lose, you give me $300!”
The teenager, almost Edward’s age, scoffed. “I bet I can get it!”
“I bet you can! Now. A man is sentenced to death. He’s allowed to choose between three rooms. Room number one is filled with fire. Room number two, trained assassins with loaded guns. And room number three, lions who haven’t eaten in years! Which room is the safest?” Edward loved this riddle. It forced the person to think, to take it literally, but it was easy enough to answer. 2 minutes, 41 seconds.
“Oh! If the lions haven’t eaten in years, they’re all dead! The third room is the safest!” The teen proclaimed proudly.
“Very good!” Edward said with a smile. “Do you have the money to risk another $100? I have one more for you!”
“Alright! $400 is my limit though, and I’ll be happy to win $500 off you!”
Edward smirked. “Oh I bet you would.” He thought for a bit, coming up with a new one. “Alright, riddle me this: before mount Everest was discovered, what was the tallest mountain?”
The guy got a confused look on his face. “Uh… Oh man, I swear I learned this in history….” Everyone said that. They had to have learned it at some point, right? Wrong. 7 minutes, 58 seconds. “That’s a dumb riddle anyway! I’m not giving you shit!” The guy said, and started to walk off.
“Oh, that my friend, is a bad idea.” Edward said darkly. His demeanor changed as he followed the guy, and before the guy could process, there was a pressure on his head, and a small click. “I would hand over that money now, unless you want to give me all your money, and no longer be alive to protest.”
The kid was shaking suddenly. “Okay! Okay okay god please don’t hurt me!” The guy took the $400 from his wallet. “Please, man, this is all I have.”
“Oh, I don’t think it is. I think you have more than that.” Edward felt almost bad for cheating the man out of his money, but he had to eat somehow. “Here, I’ll cut you a deal: you give me $500 right now, and walk away scot-free. Or, I could ask another riddle. If you get it right, you only have to pay $200. If you get it wrong, you pay with your life. What’ll it be?”
“I’ll take the riddle!”
“Feeling brave, are we?” Edward patronized. He could see the guy’s eyes looking around, looking for help. He must be fairly new to Gotham. No one ever batted an eye at a gun pointed at someone’s head. You live here long enough, you learn to look the other way so you don’t get yourself killed. “Riddle me this: I am always around, but never seen. I am often avoided, but you can't outrun me. for I will come when you’re old and grey, or maybe even the very next day. I will come with cold embrace, and give you rest with a chilled kiss on your face. I come in many forms of emotional state, weather it's irony, love, laughter, or hate. I am everyone's final fate.”
The guy had tears rolling down his face. He was too panicked to think. “I-I dunno man, I dunno please please!”
Edward sighed. “Fine, here. Follow me.” It was never respectful to murder someone in plain sight. One of the many unspoken rules of Gotham. If you wanted to get away with it, then you always dumped the body in an alley. The guy seemed to relax somewhat despite the fact there was still a gun pointed at his head.
“Wh-what are you gonna do with me?” He asked.
“Don’t ask questions. That’s just something you don’t do here in Gotham.” Edward said, and lead the guy straight into the nearest alley. “Now. You wanna take another crack at it?” He asked. He was being merciful, for him.
“What was the riddle again?”
Edward repeated the riddle with immaculate grace, as he always did.
“Uhh… Uh… s-sleep?” The guy guessed pathetically.
Edward laughed darkly, and simply said, “wrong answer.”
Edward walked out of the alley with a bright smile, and $860 in his hands. “The little liar. Saying $400 was all he had.” He mumbled to himself as he put the money in his pocket and inspected himself for blood. He tried to keep clean as well as he could while living on the streets, and today was no different. As he walked down the street looking for a new victim, his eyes settled on a person no older than 5 years above him. He wasn’t conventionally attractive by any means, but the way he held himself fascinated Edward. He held himself with a quiet confidence that wouldn’t draw the eye, but gave off a certain air to those who cared to look.
Edward walked up to the man with a bright smile. “Want to try to solve a riddle?” He asked. The man looked up at Edward through grey-blue eyes. They held no light, no emotion, but they held intelligence like no other. His tall, thin frame caused him to tower over Edward, almost in an intimidating fashion. Edward could tell he was no one to be crossed, and only hoped this went well.
“Me?” The guy asked, looking around.
“Yes, you! Here’s the game: answer my riddle correctly, and I give you $100! Answer it wrong, and you give me $50!”
The guy considered Edward under his unique gaze. Edward would have to be careful with the riddles he chose. “Fine.” He said simply.
“Alright, let’s start easy! Two ladies sit down for lunch, and order iced teas. One lady drinks 5 while waiting for their food, while the other drinks one. The girl who drank one dies, while the girl who drank 5 doesn’t. Both drinks were poisoned.”
“The poison was in the ice.” The man answered. His voice held only the slightest hints of a southern accent. Georgia maybe?
Either way, he was every as bit as intelligent as Edward thought. “Very good!” He said. “Usually people get that one wrong, though most people are dull, and judging by the sheer amount of text books in your arms, you seem to be much less so.” He babbled. The guy raised his eyebrow at Edward, but before he could respond, Edward continued to speak. “So let’s up the ante, shall we? Answer my next riddle right, I’ll give you $200! Answer it wrong, you give me $100.”
“You’d better not be playin’ games with me.” He warned.
“No games. I give my lost money, fair and square.” Edward promised. The guy regarded him warily, but nodded. “Alright, riddle me this: I can be long, or I can be short. I can be grown, I can be bought. I can be painted, or left bare. I can be round, or I can be square. What am I?” Edward counted the seconds. 1, 2, 3, 4-
“Fingernails.” The man answered correctly. Edward was miffed.
“Not even five seconds? Really?” He spat.
“Were you really counting?” The man drawled.
Edward scoffed. “Fine! Try this one on for size! What do these words have in common: madam, civic, eye, level?” 1 second.
“They all begin and end with the same letter.” Edward could see the inquisitive look in the man’s eye. It’s the same look Edward gave others when they actually managed to interest him. He gave the same look to this very man just moments ago, but now his look was nothing but a glare.
“Forward I am heavy, backward I am not.” Edward shot.
“Ton. Forward it’s a ton, backwards it’s not.” The man shot back.
“What type of dress can never be worn?”
“Address.”
“In a green house there’s a white house, in the white house there’s a red house filled with little babies.”
“Watermelon.”
Edward let out a frustrated snarl. “Fine! I give in!” He snapped, and started to dig the $200.
As he pulled it out, a long, spindly hand came to push his hand back towards his chest. “Just your luck, I don’t take money from the homeless. Even if they can afford it.” The man said calmly, and started to walk off.
“How the hell would you know if I had a home?!” Edward called after him.
The man didn’t even turn around as he replied, “now riddle me that,” and kept walking.
The encounter left Edward dazed for the rest of the day. He was distracted, and his riddles were subpar, causing him to lose about $300 of what he’d made throughout the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about that man. His eyes that held no emotion, no regard for any human being around him, but intelligence that could match up to Edward’s well. Not that Edward would ever see him again. He never conned the same man twice.
The rest of the week, however, went without a hitch, and Edward was able to keep himself in hotel rooms and even pay for good repairs on his suit. But one thing dangled at the back of his mind. That student, who probably went to Gotham University. With his thick books, his subtle accent, and his intelligence. He had to admit he found the stranger attractive.
As Edward prepared himself for the day, he considered something. He considered going back to the spot where he’d first met the man, and seeing if he might run into him again. He considered how stalkerish he might seem to the stranger. He also considered what might happen. This man could get annoyed with him, or worse. Gotham wasn’t home to the friendliest of folks, and people with such little regard for others tended to be more dangerous. Trying to interact with this man more than once might be a mistake. But Edward was oh, so curious; and as always, Edward’s curiosity had to be satisfied.
So, he went about his day, conning people out of money, was unlucky enough to actually get jumped, but he got away with his life and a need to buy more bullets for his gun. Luckily, he’d come into a lot more money than he expected from the altercation.
Edward went to a nearby restaurant to clean up his face and suit. He always carried a bloodstain kit on him at all times. Peroxide, and a rag or two to get it all out. They were only small drops of blood, nothing too big. He looked at himself in the mirror as he finished, just to reassess the damage. His right eye, the green one, was swollen and black, but not swollen shut. His blue eye was fine, however. His lip was split, and upon looking down further, he could see a few bruises on his torso peeking out from under his binder, thanks to being kicked.
Edward sighed as he finished his process and put his outfit back on. He would definitely be feeling his ribs for the next couple weeks, and hoped he wouldn’t have to break out the sports bra. He had just turned to leave as the door swung open, and his mismatched eyes met steely blue ones. He noticed there were brown flecks throughout the irises, and he found himself mesmerized. Suddenly, Edward became fully aware that he was staring, and offered a smile. “Well if it isn’t the intelligent student. Riddle me this: what is yours, but others use it more than you do?” He asked. He didn’t even have to count before the man answered.
“Your name. You didn’t actually think that one a challenge after yesterday, did you?” The man asked, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
“Of course not! I figured a simple one to break the ice, and you got it correct! The answer is your name, which I seem to have failed to get last time we met.”
The man hummed, and walked past him to the urinal, causing Edward to turn away in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to using the men’s restroom and seeing those urinals. “I have no interest in giving it.” The man answered finally as he stepped back and came to the sinks to wash his hands.
“None at all? Mine is Edward, Edward Nygma.” Edward introduced.
“I never asked,” the man said, “and me having yours does not incline me to give away mine. Now excuse me, I’m late for a class,” and with that, he walked out the door.
Edward was happy to sit and sulk, until he spotted a textbook on the counter. Advanced Social Psychology. That was all Edward needed to know to go bolting out of the restaurant. He took a minute to look around, and was grateful for how tall the man was above the crowd. No less that 6’3”. Edward took off and soon fell in stride with the man. “I have lots to say, but never speak. I open, but you can’t walk through me. I have a spine, but no bones. What am I?”
Edward could feel the irritation radiating off the man. “Do you intend to stalk me until you run out of riddles? The answer is a book- wait.” Edward smiled smugly and offered the book in the man’s direction. The man tried to take it, but Edward swiped it back at the last second with a smirk.
“Tell me your name.” He said simply.
“I am late for class. Give me the book and leave me alone.” The man demanded.
“Just tell me your name, and you can be on your merry way!” Edward retorted brightly. He soon regretted it as the man turned and deliberately towered over him. He was grabbed by his tie and yanked forward as the man leaned down towards him.
“You will regret it if you do not hand over my damn book. My name is none of your concern.” The man demanded. Edward couldn’t answer. He was frozen in fear. It’s what always happened before he got jumped. It was why they were always able to land hits. All Edward could think about was how dreadful it would be to have it happen twice in a day. He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for a blow, but all he got was a tug at the book in his hands, and then the man was walking the other way.
Edward felt breathless as the man walked away with his book. The man had sounded exactly like his father. His tone, his threats, the way he intentionally made Edward feel very, very small… But he didn’t hit him. No one had ever passed up a chance to hit him like that. Edward was intrigued. This man was a riddle, and like all other riddles, he wanted to solve it.