1000 Word Heist (Open But PM First)

[Deleted]

The Riddler buttoned his dark green pen stripe jacket to cover the permanent marker question mark on his tee-shirt. It was about the only thing an average citizen could recognize of him to realize he was the Riddler…well and his bowler cap that he was keeping in his hand. It is quite amazing how people were too obtuse to pay attention to the small details of another person. They focus on the shouting differences, and he would use it to his benefit. He looked up the stairs to the giant Art museum. Of course the police were unable to figure out his riddle.

1000 words.

A picture holds a thousand words...and what holds the most pictures in Gotham?

The Gotham Art and Portrait Gallery that had a large collection of portraits dating back to 1700s. Currently there was an exhibit featuring Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln wasn’t his favorite President, but it did not escape Edward how priceless photos from the 1800s were. It would help him pay off his debt in the black market. His last riddle with the Doctor had cost him a fortune. Advance mechanic and new technology would cost anyone a fortune. And while he could lower himself to ramen every once in awhile...his pallet preferred the fine tasting cuisine he had become accustomed to.

He looked at the stairs again, and let out a sigh. Stairs had a talent of killing his excitement. He turned to the side and headed to the handicap ramp. The process was painfully slow for him, but that was life as a cripple. He watched as families and other random citizens walked into the museums as he slowly made his way to the glass doors. It wasn’t very busy because it was 7:02 at night, but there were still enough people to make the heist a challenge. He pressed the button near the door and watched as it automatically opened to him. There was a small line for security, and he calmly waited for his turn. He saw Allen squeezed into a tight security uniform near the information desk watching him patiently. They had stolen it this morning from the guard’s locker. As expected when he walked through the metal detector it went off. He smiled smugly at the other guard who waved him over.

“The metal plate makes life a nuisance, doesn’t it?” he asked rhetorically to the tired guard at the end of his shift.

The guard forced a smile and nodded. He took note to the cane as he used his metal detector wand along his body. It went off on near his right near where he had the gun strapped. The guard then waved him along uncaringly. Oh how easily it was to deceive the dim witted minds around him. He walked passed Allen made a left into the long square hallway. It was decorated with paintings and portraits that normally would have caught his interest, but he had more important matters. After a few minutes down the hallway he heard Allen’s big steps following him. Edward couldn’t help the smug expression on his lips. This was too easy. Where was the challenge? His cane sounded against the wood floor as he took another turn and saw the entrance to the small exhibit. He made sure his blackberry he felt his blackberry in his pocket before taking the final steps into the exhibit.

The room was small and had low lights pointing at each aging photograph and painting. In the middle of the room there were a collections of old documents signed by Abraham Lincoln and the very pen he supposedly signed it with. Off in a corner there was also a collection of old coins that were made during the civil war. He had considered stealing these as well, but breaking into a glass case was too messy for his taste. No reason to ruin his clothes with blood from a cut. It would have been perfect if no one was in the room, but standing in front of the portrait portraying Lincoln’s Gettysburg speech was a young woman. He almost felt a tinge of disappointment until he took her in once more. She had dark brown hair pulled up in a bun and was wearing a professional blouse that seemed to insinuate her body type. She was quite attractive. He couldn’t help the boyish smirk from appearing on his face. He heard Allen step into the room, but he choose to ignore him. He could spare a few minutes until he put his heist into action.

Instead he walked up behind the woman, and even with the noise of his cane she didn’t turn around. He stood there silently for a moment observing her subtle shifts and her steady breathing.

He finally decided to ask the riddle that was bothering him with flirtatious smug smile, “Why is an attractive young woman appreciating art alone?”

[Nina Stenet]

To say that Nina was unsettled by what happened at the bank is no understatement. So much chaos, so many innocent people... In the end she decided that she needed to use one of her vacation days for once so that she could return to work with a clear head. It wasn't like she had any shortage of vacation days, and what use could she be to anyone when she couldn't concentrate?

What she needed was distraction - something that would take her mind off of her memories of the bank, off of work, and off of anything remotely stressful. And coming to the museum seemed to be a good way to finish off the day. While medicine meant so much to her that she not only chose it as a profession but dedicated her life to it in every possible way, that doesn't mean that she doesn't have other interests. Art, photography, history, archeology, paleontology, and all the other fields of study showcased in the museum were all fascinating subjects in their own way.

And that's how she came to be studying a portrait of Lincoln giving the Gettysburg address, though she isn't nearly as fascinated by it as she appears to be. No, she was distracted by the sound of the cane; the vague glimpse of the man she got out of the corner of her eye wasn't of someone elderly so her curiosity gets the better of her. As she pretends to focus on the painting she actually lets her mind drift to the leg, and it doesn't take her more than a moment to locate the cause because the sensory nerves are an obvious first thing to check. PAIN! many of them seem to scream in their chemical language, and by following them to their source she finds the injury.

Her face twitches with a suppressed grimace; something she could fix, but to do it properly would take hours. And even if it was feasible for her to convince a complete stranger to stay in her presence for that long, she wouldn't have enough time to do anything else if she helped everyone she ran into with a problem of that kind. Not to mention trying to explain to anyone what happened. You'll have a cure for that sort of thing in three to five years, she reminds herself, And you're on vacation today. Though the self-talk helps, it won't stop her from feeling at least vaguely guilty until her mind shifts completely onto something else.

But it seems that won't happen very quickly because the man comes up behind her and asks his question. What's this? Could he possibly be flirting? "Because she can only be distracted temporarily," she replies cryptically, but honestly. Work is life for this woman, so the fact that her public appearances outside of work are rare keep the number of men that are aware of her existence to an absolute minimum. Those few exceptions are generally put off by how absolutely devoted she is to her job, as opposed to them. And it wasn't something she was too bothered by; it would be incredibly selfish of her to take time away from increasing the quantity and quality of human life just so that she could have a social life. And when she's given that answer she glances back at the man with a detached expression; your interest is noted, but not returned.

[Deleted]

He felt his smirk widened in interest. He loved a good puzzle, and this woman appeared to be one. She can only be distracted temporary, he mulled over the statement. Based on her stiff form and professional look, this museum setting must be rare. A career woman, he could appreciate that. He was a career man himself. He glanced at her delicate hands for a moment. Her nails were short and kept clean. A businesswoman would have them longer and painted. He then glanced back to her hazel eyes. She wasn’t making it obvious, but he could tell that she was glancing at his leg. It wasn’t a rejection to him being handicap, but rather a I want to help you look. Ah…a doctor. He smiled feeling proud to have determined the puzzle, but there was something more about her that he couldn't peice.

The way she worded her statement caught his interest. Distractions. He had come to love distractions, and the ability for the small moments to take you away from…pain. He controlled the frown from forming on his face. In remembering it, the sharp pain of knives along his leg flooded to his senses. His hand free of hat and cane reached for his pocket as he responded, “Ah well it would be unkind for a man to keep you away from your work. What type of medicine do you practice?” He pulled out his tootsie pop and managed to unwrap it with his one hand. He placed the candy in his mouth in hopes of getting the needed distraction from pain. As expected as soon as the candy touched his tongue he felt immensely better.

He heard shifting behind him. Allen must be moving to the corner impatiently. Yes, he was in the middle of a riddle wasn’t he? Distraction did tend to take the better of him.

[Nina Stenet]

Now that she's actually watching him properly, Nina is gathering pieces of her own to put together. Not that she's nearly as good at this sort of thing as he is; he may be able to draw enough conclusions about her profession based on minute details, but meanwhile she's able to quickly sense that the man she's talking to is one of the exceptionally intelligent types - the thoughtful expression combined with eyes shifting here and there for clues is either the mark of that or it's opposite, but that he doesn't stumble over his words shows that he's no idiot.

And his question, which causes her to raise both eyebrows in surprise, is proof enough of her supposition. "Brilliant, Sherlock," she says with the smallest of grins and without a trace of irony. It's a compliment, really. "I'm a research microbiologist and chemist for Wayne Enterprises," she answers, "I do a lot of consultation work" which means the other doctors and scientists ask her for help "but my focus is increasing the body of knowledge relating to cellular functioning." Is it normal for her to be so specific when explaining what she does? No, but she suspects this man might actually be able to understand her explanation. Though even when she boils it down cellular functioning it's still a very generalized subject, but she really does dip into every aspect of that. Being the master of everything extremely tiny means that she doesn't have to specialize further to be an expert on all of it.

"And what is it that you do?" she asks, though mostly because that's what one asks when one has explained their profession to a stranger. Not that she isn't curious about the answer - if this man is as intelligent as he seems then he easily garners her curiosity. But he also attracts a certain wariness; she is hiding a significant secret, after all, so the overly perceptive person is perhaps not the best type of person for her to be around much. Though on the other hand, how could one possibly guess at her gift if she does nothing outward with it?

[Deleted]

He couldn’t help his arrogant smirk. He did always have a way with the naïve female species. It was so easy to manipulate their emotions into something pleasant. He watched as the tenseness in the woman’s shoulder slightly relaxed and the small smile come across her lips. Her guard had easily fallen into something friendly. Of course it wasn’t completely gone, he noticed the nervousness in her form. She kept shifting, a sign of nervousness, and her arms stayed slightly in front of her, a sign she didn’t trust him. No matter, he had still chosen the perfect topic of interest to her, and surprisingly he was impressed with this average civilian. He had never met a research microbiologist. It seemed rather uncharacteristic of a Gotham citizen. He wondered for a quick second if he had any stolen product from Wayne Enterprise dealing with microbiology. He did a quick inventory check. He had a few Wayne Enterprise trinkets, but nothing in that field. He would have to look into that later. But then the last words out of her mouth brought his interest back to the conversation. She had brought up his favorite topic…

Him.

It caused his shoulder’s to fill with pride as he ran over in his head how many amazing things he had accomplished in his lifetime. Not many people could compare to his success. Let’s correct that, no one could compare to his success. He rolled the tootsie pop to his other cheek unconsciously as he responded in still coherent well formed speech, “I’ve dabbled in many different fields from financial analyst to,” he paused for a moment as he thought over his current profession, “art appreciator.” He let out a soft laugh at his own joke. His eyes finally left the young woman to the very art he planned to…appreciate. The old photographs and paintings taunted him. Yes, it would be better to leave now then have a possible run in with the Batman. While he expected the GCPD to miss his riddle completely, the Batman was always only a few steps behind. “I am actually currently in the middle of an important job so unfortunately I must cut this conversation short,” he said politely as he grabbed his bowler cap from his hand that held his cane. He carefully put it on his head before holding out his hand.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss…”

[Nina Stenet]

Well, a woman like Nina can't help but be at least a little attracted to cleverness. She's often wished that she actually had anywhere near the level of that characteristic that is attributed to her by her colleagues, but her 'insights' are based upon having an extra sense to draw information from and not on any brilliance of mind. Which isn't to say that she's unintelligent, but her genius is overrated. Not enough to miss the smirk, however. So, not only is this man intelligent, but he thinks rather much of himself because of it? Pity. It's like a little too much magnesium in a polymerase chain reaction: ruins things a bit.

Suddenly she can feel her curiosity waning a bit, even as his interest in her grows. It's true that Gotham isn't known for its brilliance in the sciences, but it is known for being a major economic center, because of its businesses, which develop new technology with the aid of a few brilliant minds of all types. And Nina was easily lured into a job at Wayne Enterprises rather than some university or hospital research lab because she knew that she'd be able to work more independently and not have other top minds scrutinizing her methods. Not to mention how she's never strong-armed into giving lectures and taking on interns and such - let other doctors explain her discoveries to those lacking the required education to understand their significance; she'd rather spend that time doing more research.

The answer he gives about his own doings is less interesting than she'd thought it would be, so she simply nods: a fancy way of saying 'a little of this, a little of that', and only marginally less vague. And there's something about that and his laughter that sets off alarm bells in her subconscious, though it only serves to increase her wariness a bit. But until very recently she's had no real reason to listen too closely to her instincts, or she might've chosen this moment to make herself scarce.

But instead she politely introduces herself. "Doctor Nina Stenet," she says as she shakes his hand, "And you are?" Just because something about the man makes her feel somewhat uncomfortable doesn't mean that she shouldn't be nice. Especially since it seems that their little conversation is over.

[Deleted]

She had a firm handshake, and her stress on Doctor did not go unnoticed to him. In a normal situation he would have had fun challenging her pride into a battle of wit, but he did have a more important engagement. Hopefully, he would run into her again. Though he had to admit he was somewhat disappointed. She seemed rather intelligent. He had expected her to pick up on the subtle details that made him world renown. Yet he couldn’t be that surprised, she was still only…human.

He let go of her hand as he reached into his pocket for his blackberry. He smirked at her as he pulled out his phone, “That is quite a riddle, isn’t it?” Before she could respond his blackberry connected to the Internet. He had already hacked passed the firewalls for the Direct Energy Company before he had entered the front door. DEC supplied energy for a few segments of Gotham including this Museum. Preparation was a key for a perfect heist. With a quick press of a button the entire Museum went pitch black. He turned away from the woman as he built up firewalls to prevent the electricity company from turning them back on immediately. It would take the company about 15 minutes to realize they lost connection with the Gotham Art Museum, and about 30 minutes for them to work pass the firewall. However, that was assuming they had someone on staff who actually knew how to handle computers. He would keep the heist under 45 minutes just incase, but he would probably have over an hour.

“Ya like a teenage boy at a folk dance,” Allen’s thick southern accent drawled out in a growl of annoyance. Allen never appreciated the fun of flirtation. Edward always thought women were just another riddle to solve and flirting was the detective work behind it. A simple man like Allen could never understand that.

While it was completely dark he still heard Allen’s large steps towards him and held out his hand. As expected the big man dropped a pair of night vision goggles in his palm. Oh it was all too easy. Did Gotham do this on purpose?

“Let’s get started, and please hold back your unnecessary and quite dull commentary,” he stated before slipping the goggles over his hat, completely ignoring the woman behind him.

[Nina Stenet]

Initially, that answer leaves Nina puzzled. Perhaps she would be quicker on the uptake if she'd had full use of her senses but between their odd conversation, her nagging sense of something not being quite right, and a strong disbelief that she could find herself on a crime scene so soon after having been in another one she's hardly thinking at full capacity.

But after the lights go out it all suddenly makes sense: The Riddler. She'd heard about him from the news, of course, but never imagined that she'd actually encounter him. And within the same moments she's realizing this, she decides what to do. She can either try and stop him or not and, so long as he doesn't hurt anyone, the latter is the obvious choice for her. She's no vigilante, and even if she was she knows that The Riddler would be a particularly dangerous person for someone with her abilities to mess with. He might actually be able to figure out exactly what she's capable of without her explaining it to him - dangerous indeed! And when she hears someone else (she'd been too focused on The Riddler to have really noticed security guard in the background before the lights went out) she knows that anything else would be impossible - she might be able to fight off a cripple physically, but certainly not more than that.

Another choice is that she can either try to flee the room or stay put, and again she chooses the latter. This one is a bit more complex; he may or may not care about her presence now, either staying or trying to flee may attract more attention to herself, and so either option may or may not be more safe for her. The only thing that tips the balance is the knowledge that there may be some need for her to interfere, which she can't do if she is not present. So she quietly takes a few steps over to where she remembers there being a bare wall and attempts to make her presence as inconspicuous as possible as she hangs back fearfully.

But just how perceptive is The Riddler? Can he spot the difference between a woman who is fearful because she's been overwhelmed by panic and helplessness and one who is fearful because she's deliberately decided not to act but is intensely afraid of the possibility that she'll be forced to anyway? Or is he not paying enough attention to realize that there's a further puzzle there? Either way, she now attempts to focus on keeping track of where the two men are. Her gift is not dependent on sight, though being able to see certainly helps. And her gift is also very limited in its usefulness in counteracting the darkness. Instead she listens to footsteps and voices, tracks the light of the blackberry, and catches the occasional glimpse of light from the night vision goggles. Not much to go on, but it's enough - if she does need to interfere then she may only have a moment's notice. But hopefully she'll be forgotten or at least ignored.

[Deleted]

The goggles lit up the room in green. He proudly looked through every picture before focusing on the most valuable. The Ford Theater with Abraham Lincoln enjoying the play while Booth snuck out from behind the curtain. He could sell this rare piece of work for close to a million dollars. He walked over to the picture, his cane scraping against the ground. His free hand slowly and delicately reached out for the frame. He grabbed the gold wooden frame carefully almost expecting an alarm to go off with his touch. But when the room stayed silent he smiled smugly at his success. He lifted the frame off the wall.

CRASH.

He flinched and whipped his head to the sound of the noise. Standing there over a crumpled picture frame was Allen looking befuddled. “Idiot, if you tare the picture it loses all value,” he growled out. His teeth cracked his lollipop.

“Ya’ll want the pictures fast, I’m hurryin’ the process to a jumping hare speed,” the man stated bending over to the ground. He plucked out the photo and shook the glass off the old document. He almost cringed by the brutality the poor photo was receiving. He closed his eyes for only a moment to hold in his inner frustration. Why did he surround himself with incompetent fools? He opened up his eyes again to see the overly muscled man. Ah yes that riddle was simple. He kept him around to fight off the Batman. Before the accident, Edward could have possibly taken the vigilante, but with his handicap he had a hard enough time running away a few times. However there was that one time….

He smirked remembering how he took his cane and slammed it on costume man’s cowl as he spouted out random anagrams. Yes, he had lost his temper, but Batman had no justification in calling his riddles child play. He turned back to the frame in his hand. He slowly tilted it on the wall and unlatched the back. Like dealing with a baby bird he carefully lifted the velvet back to reveal the painting. There was a date and a signature that were starting to ware away with age. His chest filled with pride of accomplishment. He truly was a genius. He pulled out the picture carefully. He smiled smugly. The police still had not turned up, and nether had the Bat or his kids. His riddle was so simple….so obvious. He would have to make his riddle even easier next time just to taunt their stupidity.

CRASH.

Edward winced. His hand gripped slightly tighter then it should have on the aging photo. He cursed once he realized his action. Allen continued to test his patience. He shook his crippled leg shaking the gun on of the hold near his near. It caused him pain, but at this moment he was to absorb in his frustration to care. A clattering sound echoed against the tile.

CRASH.

Edward bent down with his good leg and picked up his pistol that had a perfect mold to his hand from overuse. Before his grip even tightened around the grip it was already pointing at the big man. “Riddle me this, what’s thunderous, large, and powerful, but still managed to die at the hand of a man?” he asked seeing Allen freeze for only a moment before shrugging slightly. Edward wasn’t surprised. He had surprised Allen with riddles before at gunpoint so the man had gotten used to them.

“Motor boats ah pretty powahful I bet many of man break ‘em,” he said rolling the third picture up waiting for his boss to either shot or put down the gun.

The pain in his leg became very noticeable with that one ridiculous statement. His jaw locked trying to push it away. “Wrong, the giant from Jack and the Bean Stock, but I can easily give it a new answer in the barest of seconds,” he said ready to pull the trigger before his mind came flooding back to reality. If he fired a shot the security guards would race to them. He would have to punish Allen later. Allen had stopped his movement and stared at him almost expecting a bullet wound. Edward decided the look of respect from his thug would be enough for now. “Your actions should be quiet. I would rather not have pathetic not-worthy-of-my-notice guards figuring out my riddle because you gave them a hint,” he growled and lifted up his gun.

Allen nodded with an annoyed frown before turning back to his work. Edward felt slightly better about the situation as he watched the man move to the next picture. Edward then slowly looked across the room. He stopped when he saw a form pushed back into the corner. The Doctor? He had expected her to run away at the first sign of trouble. Any person with any desire for their safety would automatically recognize the dangers of staying and bolt out the door, yet the Doctor had stayed. Now normally he would accuse the person of being moronic for letting fear stun them into not moving, but since he had spoken to her he knew she was rather intelligent compared to the average citizen. Could her fears really have gotten the better of her? Maybe Dr. Crane had some justification in his interests; he would have to ask him later. They could have an interesting discussion. He studied her face. Her lips weren’t shaking or gasping in fear. They formed a line that sometimes turned into a frown of confusion and personal debate. Her eyes seemed to be studying the situation instead of frightfully looking for escapes. She seemed to be analyzing this the same way he was analyzing her. How very…odd. After his many interactions with the lesser species of Gotham he knew what true panic looked like, and this did not seem like panic. Again, like all of his deductive analysis, he came to this conclusion in a matter of seconds so he easily shifted his gun from pointing at the ceiling to her in a smooth movement.

“Was our conversation so entertaining you wished it to continue? Why my dear I would be delighted!” he said sounded like a boy who just found a new puzzle at the store, “What quacks like a duck and waddles like a duck, but isn’t a duck?”

[Nina Stenet]

The lights from the goggles prove difficult for Nina to follow, probably because the lights are designed to help the wearer and not anyone who happens to be around. Or perhaps because the fact that it's The Riddler, in the dark, and the uncertainty of her own situation all coming at her at once. Calm down, Nina, she admonishes herself, If you can assist surgeons, you can do this.

What they're taking is of little consequence to Nina. Sure, what the museum had on display was interesting, but the actual value of such things is negligible compared to what she really cares about: human life. And so she remains passive despite what she sees and hears when many other museum-goers would be up in arms. At least until she saw a gun being pointed; she's halfway to reaching out with her mind to the arm that holds it before she registers the other man's reaction - not nearly enough fear there. This has happened before...

But she scarcely has time to breathe a sigh of relief before the gun is pointed in her direction. And this time she's the target. And this time she has no trouble at all finding that seemingly insignificant nerve in his forearm that nothing more than signal the muscle that curls the forefinger. For a split second that nerve is all she can think about as true panic crosses her features, but once she has that nerve located with her as yet unsubstantial mental touch she's able to push enough of the fear away to actually think.

Is this a joke as well, or is this a genuine test? She knows very little about security guards or any other reason The Riddler might have to not shoot, so she pores what mental energy she has that is not quaking in fear or keeping tabs on that nerve into the question. And with her attention so divided it takes her several moments before she quietly answers, "A...a drake?" Well, it's a valid answer, but is that the 'right' answer? And was that even the point of asking the question? For all she knows, he'll shoot her for getting it right!

Her expression remains fearful, but not nearly enough - she's almost completely sure that she'll be able to stop him from firing if he decides to. And while the 'almost' is terrifying, the 'if' negates much of that. In fact, the reality of the gun pointed at her has so focused her thoughts that she actually looks less frightened than she was a moment ago. Instead there is a cold focus directed mainly at trying to read him, but with the distraction of keeping track of the nerve thrown in - as if she were attempting to do just a little mental long division on the side. She doesn't want to pinch that nerve - not again, and not in this man, but she will the instant she's at all certain that he'll shoot. Protecting her life is much more important than protecting her secret, after all.

[Deleted]

He waited for tears or gasping sobs. It was the usual reaction when having a gun pointed at your head for the first time. When that didn’t occur, he looked into her eyes for panic. He felt befuddled for a moment. The girl seemed more collected then she was before the gun aimed in her direction. The only hint to fear or uncertainty happened in the stutter of her voice. He was so focus on studying her expression and movements that he barely caught her answer.

A drake…

He smirked. She actually got the riddle correct. She was calm, focus, and able to think through a riddle in a life and death situation. He remembered his first riddle he gave to a boy that had him held at gunpoint. Everyone is afraid of death, right? What does it mean when they are not afraid? The boy responded something about the person being insane, and while most people would agree with that statement Edward knew the answer.

The person’s not in a life or death situation. He proved it to the kid by killing him with a trap he had already set up before the kid had walked in. To think he’d find himself on the other side of the event. The woman wasn’t afraid, or she had a talent for hiding it. Since she wasn’t afraid, she obviously wasn’t worried for her life meaning it wasn’t in danger. How interesting…very interesting…

“Excellent,” he said with a widening grin. His cane scrapped against the tile as he walked towards her. He was only a foot away and could hear her calm steady breaths. “My ears haven’t heard a correct response in a long time. Maybe you can answer this one too. Riddle me this, what looks like Gothamnite, walks like a Gothamnite, but most certainly isn’t a Gothamnite,” he asked her pressing the barrel of the gun to her forehead.

(OOC: The reference is to a fanfiction i wrote before this...that's where i'm getting all my history from.)

[Nina Stenet]

Unfortunately for Nina, this isn't the first time she's had a gun pointed at her head. Recently, even. She hasn't had the best luck with timing lately - or maybe this is a sign that she ought to stay at home from now on. But at least the first time it was a straightforward situation, even if she had so many other people to worry about. Here's it's just her and him - the threat of the brawn member of this pair is negligible to her. And she's being toyed with.

And he's reading me, and doing a good job of it, she notes, He knows I'm not afraid of the gun. But what can she do about that? Even if she had any skill as an actress, she can't afford to divert much attention away from the nerve and keeping a very careful eye on his manner and movements. Without that she's probably dead, and when he presses the gun to her forehead (which she's not inclined to resist, given the fragile nature of the situation) that doubly underlines just how careful she must be.

His second riddle receives no consideration whatsoever - even though she's managed to thrust away the majority of her fear, she's brushing up against some very real limits to how many different things she can pay attention to at once, let alone managing any depth of thought. And since most of it is preventing this from being a life or death situation for her, she can't simply set that aside to consider a riddle for his amusement. "Is there a point to this?" she asks with surprising calm, not even trying to hide her present state of mind, though her voice cracks just slightly - just because she isn't afraid of the gun doesn't mean that she's not horribly, horribly intimidated by the person holding it.

However, a hopeful thought comes to mind - if he knows she's not afraid of the gun, he'll no doubt be wondering why, so even if she makes him angry by not playing his game perhaps he won't try shooting her in favor of trying to figure that out. He's the Riddler, after all. Or he may decide to find out by seeing what happens if he does shoot her. Focus... Watching him and keeping that minuscule mental touch of hers at the ready, she can only wait to see what he'll do now. At least having him this close makes it easier for her to see him, as dark as it is.

[Deleted]

He couldn’t help the girlish laugh that escaped his mouth. No one had ever so bluntly rejected his riddle in such a way. This woman continued to intrigue him. Not only did she continue to show no sign of fear but was also respectfully challenging him. He lowered his gun not seeing a point in it anymore. She obviously knew the weapon was no challenge for her. He still couldn’t determine the reason why. The best way to solve the puzzle would have been to shot her and see her response, but he couldn’t risk getting caught for a trial and error experiment. He would have to contact her again on a different setting.

In a riddle perhaps?

Like all his riddles it would have to be life or death, and would have to not only challenge her mind but also her body. If the brain could work pass pain then a person was usually worthy of life…oh he was getting a head of himself. He focused again on the woman in front of him. “Well dear if you would have figured out the riddle you would have uncovered the point. Laziness is rather unflattering on those pretty features, or did you not answer it because you do not require the mental capability to solve it?” he asked with a smug smirk. He knew the real reason she chose to ignore it. Her focus was elsewhere…probably on whatever she considered to keep her safe. He greatly respected her potential as an intellectual opponent, but that would not stop his tongue from firing condescending remarks.

“Would you like a lollipop for trying?” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tootsie pop. She would take as an insult, of course, but for him it truly was a sign of respect. He rarely gave off his candy to other because it was the only thing keeping him sane most of the time. However, moments like these, made his respect grow slightly for the human race. He needed to show some sign of gratification.

Still it was unfortunate he couldn’t ponder over this puzzle longer. Another time…another time, he reminded himself as he waited for her response.

[Nina Stenet]

A bit of the tension Nina had been holding eases away when the Riddler lowers the gun. Even though he could lift it again in an instant, that would be an instant's worth more time for her to react and that's not unsubstantial when things can happen at the speed of thought. And it also means that she doesn't have to be so careful about watching him, though she doesn't feel nearly safe enough to neglect the location of that nerve - not with how brazenly he waves that gun around.

But the easing up of the mental load allows her to realize that perhaps being a riddle for him to solve is not a good thing even if it means that he doesn't shoot her now. In no way is it a good thing to have a super-criminal take an interest in your carefully guarded secret, especially not this super-criminal.

And given the sheer amount of his life he devotes to riddles, it's not a far stretch for her to guess that even if he leaves her alone at this moment that does not mean he's through with her. After all, she would be incredibly easy for him to track down - she'd innocently given the man her name, easily found in the phone book, and due to her widely recognized talent in her field a simple web search was all it would take to learn a great deal about exactly who she is. And she couldn't go into hiding; that would interrupt her research and make it too difficult for her to do much more - not at all acceptable if there was any way she can avoid it. So in a way she's been in trouble since whichever moment he realized that there was something different about her.

He won't find out, she promises herself. He may be smarter than her, but this isn't an easy puzzle to solve - especially not correctly. And she's fully capable of making it very difficult for him. She's actually only used to using only a narrow portion of her gift, so even if she's forced into revealing some of what she can do perhaps she'll be able to mislead him about the nature and limits of it. And anything she can do to keep the full truth away from this man seems worth the effort. On the other hand, every truth he discovers is something she doesn't have to hide from him. And she's willing to bet that she can out-stubborn him even if she can't outsmart him. What have I gotten myself into?

His combination of flattery and insult seems meaningless to her - why would she care about his opinion of her? It's to her benefit if he has the wrong impression of her anyway, isn't it? But already the mind games are starting to get on her nerves, and even more than that his arrogance. "If I were lazy, I wouldn't be risking my life to spare yours," she informs him quietly but evenly. This isn't a brag or a threat, but a statement of fact - one that is completely true aside from the technicality that she wouldn't even consider killing him. She certainly could and perhaps would against this threat if there was the slightest bit of malice in her. But there isn't, so that is one line she will not cross; if she's capable of killing a person with her gift then she's capable of incapacitating them just as easily and will always choose that option, even if it would be very convenient for her to get rid of someone completely.

The tootsie pop is, of course, ignored. Instead she stands there quietly and waits to see what he'll do.

[Deleted]

The lollipop balanced in the air between his fingers waiting to be taken. All it got was an uncaring glance. He felt himself frown. She disregarded the delicious substance so easily! Was he the only one who truly appreciated the riddle of the silly but quite amazing lollipop? The only unsolvable riddle in the world, and she tossed it aside.

Morons…idiotic buffoons…the human race focused only on their pathetic routine life and never dug into the meaning of it or the meaning of anything else. He felt his finger teasing him to let go of the lollipop and place them back into the trigger. Any normal person who had rejected his treat would have received his response with a bullet wound, but her words reminded him of why he hadn’t taken the action. Her words were just as cryptic as her entire persona. Yes…very cryptic proving once again that there was more to this woman then she willingly showed him. He had to give her a small amount of respect. She was somehow standing toe to toe with him. He imagined this was how the United States felt when dealing with al-Qaeda. You have enough power and potential to completely destroy the pitiable group, but it continues to be just out of grasp. You feel disgusted that such a disease could still best you, but also some admiration that even with their lack of resources they still persist. Yes, this woman was definitely igniting a mixture of these emotions.

He found himself smirking at the ordeal. The woman would have to learn she was beneath him, and that her arrogance was all a delusion. “Spare my life?” he repeated her words as he slowly put the lollipop back in his pocket, “An interesting phrase to choose, Miss Stenet,” he said stressing the Miss just to irritate her, “I would then have to assume that you have the power to kill me. No offense, but I can easily judge that you will not be overpowering me with your strength. I also can observe that you do not have any weapons on your person. Furthermore, a thorough inspection before entering this building informs me there are no secret traps or security guards near by that can kill me for you. So that leaves the riddle…how do you have the power to kill me?” As he spoke his smirk widened at his own understanding. All the puzzles were starting to fit into place. Her calm exterior, her focus, her distance from people, her lack of fear…all the pieces were slowly coming together. If he had never met Clayface and other rogues with strange powers he would never assume such a strange concept…but it fit. She was part of the small percentage of the population that had a unique ability. Giddiness overcame his emotions. Oh soo close…maybe another riddle wasn’t even in order if he could solve her now.

“Boss,” Allen who had been busying himself with the other paintings (actually quietly) finally came to his side. Oh how disappointing…it was about time for them to go, was it not? “Got all those paints,” the big man added.

He nodded as he used the barrel of his gun to lift up the sleeve of his jacket. He peered down at his watch. They were within the time span, but they still needed to get to the van before the lights came back on. He would go now then…well after he got a good look at her face. He wanted to see what happened to features when she realized he had basically figured it out. Silly girl…your biggest slip was that one sentence. If only you could have swallowed that pride. No matter, she could not be expected to be as perfect as him.