#narci!riddler

[realityhelixcreates]

Happy Valentines Day, everyone!

artists: Me, @captainbaddecisions @miasmacaron @cardwrecks @motherdearestriddler @billdenbroing

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: Regression Engine

There's a reason he wanted to be somebody else.

Takes place before Seeker and Seer.

Warning! Bit of nasty language. Also, this is a long one.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

Song: Don't Let Me Get Me-P!ink

The alcohol both numbed and lifted him, blending with the thrumming music to create a fizzy, dizzying sensation in his head. The dance floor spun along with him, the lights a spangling rainbow in the dark. A writhing human ocean of bodies and hands pressing against him, a hundred clashing perfumes and colognes rising to the ceiling, buoyed on a cloud of sweat.

Swag loved this feeling.

Usually.

Tonight, the dizziness wasn't a release, it was just disorientation, and he wobbled across the dance floor, to wind his way upstairs. On his way there, he somehow latched arms with a few people, who ended up in his room with him, but he didn't have any complaints. And he made sure they didn't either.

When he dragged himself out of bed in the morning-well, midmorning-well, noon actually-only two of them were still there. He hoped the others hadn't fucked with any of his stuff on their way out, but his reputation still held on enough that most people didn't.

He was well aware that a lot of the people who found their way into his bed were in it for the thrill of who he'd used to be. The challenge, the bragging rights, the curiosity. Whatever. He didn't mind; he got to have a good time too, after all. Most of them didn't stick around for long afterward though.

These two, however, seemed to at least want breakfast.

���So big boy, you as good in the kitchen as you are in the sheets?” one asked.

His laugh was rough with sleep and residual alcohol.

“Unfortunately, no. I put all my extra points into my hips, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I do. That's okay, I can throw us something together. How d'you like your eggs?”

“Scramb-” he began, cutting off as he noticed her face fade from flirty, to frightened.

“What the fuck is that?” she whispered, pointing to one corner of his bedroom.

An anomalous form hunched there, pale gray and shifting, just barely humanoid. One of those damn wizard aliens! He didn't have much patience for these things.

“i'm curious about you”

Its voice slithered into his mind, nothing more than a whispered breath, as lacking in detail as its blank face.

“The feeling ain't mutual. Now scram!”

“Is it talking to you?” the other one asked, both partners taking shelter behind him. He glanced back.

“Hey, don't worry, okay? It's weird, but it'll be all right. Hey, you're freaking out my guests! Beat it!”

“i'm curious about how you were once one way but are now another way

how is that

humans can't really change so how are you doing it”

“Man, it's a long story, and I don't really feel like telling you. I just decided to, okay?”

“just decided to act differently and dress differently and be different

what part of it allows you to be different”

“The indomitable human spirit and my slammin' fashion sense. Go away.”

“ah your 'swag' as you humans put it

what a quaint concept

all that garish color and pointless detail

what if you didn't have that”

“Then I'd be naked.” Swag sneered. “Well...more naked.”

“then I expunge your 'swag' and all it entails

i want to see what will happen”

“Bro, that is so fuckin' stu-”

Magic flipped him inside out like a photo negative, a spool winding backwards. A spurt of malevolence splashed though his veins, making his fluffy bathrobe uncomfortably hot. He tore it from his thin form, and dropped it on the ground. Everything in the room felt wrong. Stifling. Everything was so...so fuzzy and soft, so clogged with dust, the perfect home for mites and allergens, and who knew what other kinds of potential pests and infestations?

It wasn't just the clothes. It wasn't just the clothes that made him who he was, it was the attitude, the demeanor, the coping mechanism he used to direct his mind away from its old paths. The Gray had lumped everything under the umbrella term of 'swag' and snatched it all away.

And who was he without that?

He knew. Unfortunately, he knew.

His sideburns itched, unnecessary, extraneous growths that served no purpose but to gather dirt. Everything was dirty; when was the last time anything in here had been cleaned?

“Eddie? Baby, are you okay?” One of the strangers placed their hand on his arm. He shoved them away immediately.

“Don't touch me!” he shouted, eyes wild. “You're filthy! All of you are covered in disease! Don't-”

They recoiled in fear.

“Fuck. Sorry. S-sorry, I didn't mean that.” he stammered, battling back a flood of anger and disgust. “Sorry, just...just don't touch me. You should...you should probably leave.”

“What happened?” the other asked, reaching out. “Do you need help?”

“Get out!”

He shoved them again, and this time, he didn't feel nearly as sorry.

They ran from him, but it didn't matter.

He needed to go check his cameras.

?~?~?~?~?

Something was wrong. Something was wrong.

It scuttled up the back of Detective's scalp, ruffling hairs along the way.

Something was wrong.

They hurried into their study, snatching up a small velvet bag along the way. Seating themselves at their antique leathertop desk, they lit a candle. They stared into the little flame, breathing deeply to push back against rising panic.

Once they had regained control, they opened the velvet bag, removing an ornate tarot deck.

What was the universe trying to tell them? They asked the cards while shuffling, slipping out three, and spreading them out on the desk.

The Five of Cups. The Tower. And off to the side, Temperance, reversed.

Regret. Failure. Terrible upheaval. And...

Swag.

They had to go find Swag. Something was wrong.

The world of the Question Mark shimmered at the edge of their vision. Swag. And danger. A faraway figure out on the horizon.

By the time they realized they were walking, their feet had already taken them to his doorstep.

Inside, everything was quiet and still. Detective heard muffled voices, and followed them to their source.

Swag perched on a chair in the kitchen, sketching on a roll a paper spread over the table.

“Crushing is always such a fun possibility.” Arkham's voice floated, tinny and harsh, from Swag's phone. “The walls closing in, just slowly enough that the victim can see what is going to happen, and panic at their own helplessness. The desperation. The inevitable ending. Such a good time. Well, when you're on the outside anyway. I have some of the parts you might need, if you feel like swinging by.”

“Hm. Not a bad suggestion.” Swag said. “But you'll forgive me if I don't jump at the opportunity to make myself vulnerable in somebody else's lair.”

“Will I?” Arkham said. “I suppose I will. Just this once.”

“Poisoning, perhaps.” Swag mused. “Something slow-acting. Pose the riddle and watch their terror grow as they begin to drop on the dance floor. If someone solves it, they get the antidote, but only the one who answered. Make it competitive.”

“Desperation and selfishness. A delight. But I thought you wanted blood?”

“Perhaps more metaphorically than literally, but I certainly wouldn't mind. Actually, there's enough space in here that I could put together a whole gauntlet without much trouble. I think I'll do that.”

“Swag?” Detective asked, worried. This kind of talk was...uncomfortable.

Swag held his hand up in a silencing gesture.

“How do you keep an idiot waiting?” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Arkham asked.

“Nothing to worry about. An interruption has arrived. I'll see to it.”

“Shall I call back?” Arkham offered.

“I think not. It's not that your company is unpleasant or anything, it's just that I know you're trying to distract me, and I'm not inclined to let you continue. Clever attempt though. I'm sure we'll cross paths later.”

Better hope not.” Arkham said, and they both laughed. Swag hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you later.” he finished the riddle, a drawl of challenge in his rolling tone. “So. You.”

“I can't help but feel as though you are on the edge of doing something you might later regret.”

“Something you might regret perhaps, but I'm feeling better than ever.” Swag asserted, holding his arms out wide. His eyes held no happiness that they could detect, just a manic sort of fervor. “I'm leaving behind all of my guilt and anxiety, ditching the false face. I'm letting that moron die and rising back up from the ashes. Call it an act of self care.”

“I shan't.” Detective said. “The Swag I know-”

Swag slammed his fist down on the table. Detective flinched.

“You never knew me.” he growled. “All you knew was a mask. A fucking jester. A coping mechanism that rose as a defense to too much thinking. He was, by nature and by design, my lesser.”

“He is loved.” Detective insisted. “What has brought this on? If you were truly so dissatisfied with things, why not speak with us about it? It's terrible to see you like this.”

“You will learn to like it!” Swag snapped. “Just like everyone else. Honestly, you act like I've killed somebody's best friend...which I have. Just not today. Not yet.”

“I will not allow-”

“It isn't your choice.” Swag cut them off. “Really, this infatuation of yours is pointless. Don't mourn that disgrace, Detective, welcome his restored superior! And also, leave. I have work to do.”

“Swag-” Detective stepped forward, stopping abruptly as the tip of Swags pen came up beneath their chin.

“Think you can take me?” Swag asked. “You aren't armed, are you? You don't bring weapons here. Swag's not dangerous, after all.”

Detective backed away.

“I shall take my leave.” they said.

?~?~?~?~?

No answer.

“Maybe he didn't hear?” Narci suggested.

“He'd better not be 'occupied'.” Puzzles grumbled, typing into his phone. “He knows we were coming, and I am not playing second fiddle to some floozie.”

He rang the doorbell several more times.

“Come on you strutting voluptuary, don't you dare leave us waiting.”

The door slammed open. Narci jumped. A stranger shoved his head out.

“What do you fucks want?” He snapped.

It was Swag, Puzzles realized with a shock. Clean-shaven and divested of his jewelry, hair slicked back under an olive green bowler. He glared coldly at them, and Narci shifted uncomfortably.

“You, uh, you were going to show me how to rewire an intercom system?” Narci said quietly, staring.

Swag sneered.

“Too stupid to figure it out on your own?”

“No!” Narci protested. “Of course not! You just said you were going to show us some tricks.”

Swag scoffed. He was actually in a suit for once, and...carrying a cane?

Something felt wrong here. Swag wasn't just in a bad mood. He felt different somehow.

“All right, spill it. Something's wrong with you.”

“How about you go fuck yourself.” Swag growled.

“How about I don't, and you tell me what's going on?” Puzzles shot back. “What's happened to you?”

“Nothing that needs to concern you. I had a change of heart, nothing more. I'm just trying to get something done, and I am out of patience with these interruptions.”

“What are you trying to do?” Narci asked.

“None of your business. Let's just say that Gotham needs a reminder. They've grown too complacent in my absence. I've been far too frivolous. Well, I mean to remedy that mistake.”

“Wait!” Narci cut in. “I could help you! If you could use another great mind, another pair of hands. We could punish this city together!”

Puzzles glanced aside. Narci had that weird look in his eyes again. The kid just got like that sometimes, like a curious dog, he just wanted to be involved in everything. Puzzles was vaguely aware of his isolated childhood, but there was a time and a place, and this definitely wasn't it.

But Swag-well, not Swag exactly right now, more like Less Swag, Opposite Swag, UnSwag-laughed mockingly.

“You? The constant failure? You're worthless. You don't have the respect of a single member of this wankfest of a Family, and you're going to help me? More like you need me to help you look better. Get lost you over-inflated fuck suit. You too, Autism Speaks, shove off before I bury you both.”

Puzzle's lip curled as Narci drew back, obviously hurt.

“No wonder you wanted to be anything other than this. You're insufferable.”

“Oh no, the twerp doesn't like me, how will I go on with my life? Go cry to mama, and get out of my parking lot.”

The UnSwag waved his cane threateningly at them. Puzzles eyed it cautiously. A Riddler's cane could be a dangerous thing; Puzzles own had a battery powered taser just under the question mark curl, a fear toxin dart in the bottom, and a short blade that could flick out of the side. Swag's preferred arsenal while he was a Riddler was a mystery to the Family.

“Perhaps a calculated retreat is in order.” Puzzles said quietly.

“He didn't have to say it like that.” Narci muttered, but he followed Puzzles away without arguing. “That's not...That's not actually true. I don't always fail. I'm not worthless. That's not true.”

“I'm sure you'll become capable eventually if you just keep at it.” Puzzles said, ignoring the betrayed glance the boy shot him. It was true. For the most part. Not many among them genuinely liked Narci, mostly just tolerating his antics for Nash's sake. Narci did have a lot left to prove, and whining about it wouldn't fix the problem. “More importantly; what's gotten into him? He has never acted that way since I've known him. We've argued before, and I know he is capable of being unreasonable, but I've never felt actually threatened before.” Puzzles mused, Narci sulking alongside him.

“Maybe he's just had enough.” Narci grumbled. “It could happen to anyone. Even m-even him.”

“Enough of what? The man is a bottomless pit of hedonistic debauchery.”

“But he wasn't always like that, was he? He was somehow else before...before all this. Maybe he got tired of people only thinking of him in one way. Maybe he needs to remind people what he's capable of.”

“Doesn't sound right.” Puzzles said dismissively. “But strange things do happen. We should probably let him be until this passes. Come on, we still need to talk about that sapphire heist.”

“I said I was sorry!” Narci groaned. “I just misunder...I just...”

“You were just wrong, and it cost us! Now come on!”

?~?~?~?~?

Nash spotted him near a wall panel tugging at a mess of wiring. This place was probably an electrical labyrinth, though maybe not quite as bad as the small lairs and foxholes Nash typically hid out in. Nash knew the Question Mark had once been an old warehouse; refurbishing those into hotspots for the night life was pretty common in Gotham, but Swag had really gone all out. On the inside, at least, it was impossible to tell what the building had once been.

Swag turned to look at him. Was he wearing a hat? That was odd.

Overlying his mind and perceptions, Lust hissed.

Nash stepped back, wary.

Swag smiled lightly, eyes sly.

“Good instincts.” he said. “But it took you just a little too long anyway.”

“Is...is something wrong?” Nash asked. Swag shrugged.

“Not from my perspective. Did we have plans? It doesn't matter, they'll have to be canceled, just like the rest. I find myself unexpectedly busy.”

This...this was wrong. Nash could still feel Lust bristling, able to sense things Nash couldn't, but he didn't need that to know something was terribly off here. Swags clothes...well they were always bright, eye-catching, stylish in a way that was either on the edge of going out of style, or just about to come back into style. Swag lived on the edges, shaped them and was shaped by them, but this green suit, that bowler hat, it was somehow lacking in the vibrancy Swag was known for.

And had he shaved???

Was this the same Swag, or yet another Riddler from another world? Nash knew Swag had been a Riddler, but not during the time Nash had known him. Not during the time any of them had known him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Some kind of vague being came by and we had a talk. I came to the understanding that things were simply not working out the way I'd hoped. Oh well. I gave it a try, but I couldn't deny my destiny forever.”

“A vague... a Gray? Did a Gray do this to you?”

“A Gray? Can't I make my own mind up? Oh never mind, it doesn't matter. I have things to do.”

He didn't even sound like Swag. The easy-going affectation dropped entirely in favor of a mocking, almost angry tone.

“What are you planning?” Nash asked. He eyed the wires worming out of the panel.

“Grand re-opening tonight.” Not-Swag said. “This place will be filled with the most vapid, frivolous socialites middle class Gotham has to offer. How many of them do you think will make it out?”

A deathtrap. Swag was building a deathtrap. It was wrong. That wasn't what Swag did!

“Will Swag ever come back?”

Not-Swag rolled his eyes.

“He never left. I'm Swag. He's me! Ugh, why did I ever allow anyone to call me that? Fucking ridiculous. The disrespect I allowed...well that's over now. I'm him, he's me, we're the same person. I was always here, I was just wearing a different mask. Trying a different mode of being, but it didn't work. Too fragile a concept to build a life off of. Anxiety, pointless hedonism. No direction. No, I had already found what I was meant to be, no use in denying it any longer. It's time for a comeback. Now, why don't you come over here?”

Nash could feel Lust's denial, and he didn't feel very safe either. He backed up even farther.

“I think I'm gonna go...”

“Get over here, Nash. You won't have to do much. Just be tied to a chair so the others don't keep bothering me.”

“~The doorway over there~” Lust whispered in his mind. “~The worlds are thin there. I can get us through~”

“Come here, you fucking brat!” Not-Swag lunged for him.

“~Run for it!~” Lust screeched.

Nash threw himself blindly through the doorway-

-and stumbled into an entirely different building to sprawl, disoriented, on someones kitchen floor. He heard the patter of footsteps approaching and tried to climb to his feet. They were upon him before he knew it.

“Nash? When did you get here?”

“Oh, Nash! Are you all right?”

They helped him up, arms around his thin shoulders to stabilize him. Puzzles and Narci, their concerned faces hovering close to his. He was safe.

“Swag!” he gasped. “Something's wrong with him!”

Puzzles frowned, Narci's pale eyes slid away from Nash's face.

“We know.” Puzzles said. “We had an unfortunate encounter with him earlier. He was incredibly unpleasant.”

“Don't like seeing him this way.” Narci muttered. “Feels wrong.”

The three of them lapsed into an uncomfortably contemplative silence. They were the youngest of their group, just starting out on a journey that Swag had already ended. Narci and Nash were still figuring what the persona of the Riddler meant for them, and Puzzles only had a few years of experience under his belt. Swag was an odd outlier, but he was still a respected elder by now, at least in their youthful perspective.

And yet this thing that they all wanted so desperately to grow into, felt so wrong on Swag, who actually had once been that thing.

“It was a Gray.” Nash said. “He described it to me. He thinks he's made this decision himself, but it was one of those awful things.”

Puzzles sighed in irritation. “I suspected it might be something along those lines.”

“What's a Gray?” Narci asked.

“You haven't seen them?” Nash was surprised. He thought everyone had to deal with the mischievous creatures. Narci shook his head.

“Count yourself lucky.” Puzzles said. “They're some kind of magical being-yes, I know, but they are.” he insisted at Narci's disbelieving expression.

“They don't have any faces.” Nash explained. “They're all gray all over, and they kinda look like they're made out of slime or fog. They only barely look human. They talk inside your head. They're really creepy. They cast magic on you, like curses. They can make you do stupid things, or change your shape, or...practically anything! It's like they're playing pranks.”

“But they have been known to go too far.” Puzzles said bitterly. “Cause major problems for their own entertainment. Mostly they're just annoying, but they can be downright dangerous at times. The one saving grace is that their magic is nearly always temporary. This UnSwag has an expiration date. He'll go back to normal in a day or two. We'll just avoid him until then.”

“What about his customers?” Nash asked.

“What about them?” Puzzles said. “They can go a few nights without practicing their debauchery, I'm sure.”

“But he didn't close the club!” Nash exclaimed. “He's turning it into a deathtrap!”

Narci gasped. Puzzles stared at the ceiling with an irritated groan.

“Of course he is. This couldn't be easy, oh no, no, no. Instead, he has to go and do something that will get him tossed back in Arkham after the Gray magic wears off. This is why these creatures are so insidious, Narci. Their magic is temporary, but it can have long lasting consequences.”

“What do we do?” Narci asked. His feather light voice was laced with a fear Nash had never heard him express. He understood though. They could lose one of their number over this. One of their special Family. He and Narci didn't really have many people to turn to, and Narci had only recently been getting closer to the older members of the group. A few bad run-ins with Arkham had left him shy and demoralized.

But Swag had always been friendly. Always ready with another chance, even when Narci had been rude, or awkward, or-worst of all-wrong about something. He'd shown the same welcoming face to Puzzles and Nash too, even though Nash was technically too young to be allowed into the club during business hours, and Puzzles...well in the interest of being honest, Puzzles could get pretty rude about things too sometimes. Nash thought it must be a way of protecting himself. Even so, Swag still let him in.

“Well...We're Riddlers, aren't we?” Puzzles mused. “So, we stop him. Before he can kill anybody, and before any vigilantes show up. This is our business. We'll take care of it.”

Both boys nodded, dead serious.

“Okay. Narci, you go try to find YJ. I'll talk to Arkham. Nash, I want you to get Detec-”

“No need.” Detective's voice floated up from Puzzles left arm. “I'm already here~”

Puzzles shoved up his sleeve, revealing the tiny computer strapped there.

“Did you hack my Wrist Buddy?” he exclaimed, irritated and impressed.

“Never mind that. Do let me in. We have something to discuss.”

Grumbling, Puzzles typed a code into the tiny keyboard, and the front door unlocked. Detective entered without further preamble.

They were dressed for business, in a sleek green blazer over gray shirt and slacks, a green derby hiding their vermilion hair. They were even wearing their mask! Nash had never seen that before. They looked...dangerous. Not like the mothering figure Nash had grown to know, but like the debonair villain they had once been.

Narci stared with unabashed awe. Puzzles, on the other hand, crossed his arms and leaned against the counter.

“One would almost think you knew something in advance.” he said impudently.

“I did foresee something happening.” Detective replied.

“Oh, you foresaw it? How inconvenient that you didn't see fit to clue anybody else in!”

Nash squirmed. The Detective had visions. Claimed to have visions, anyway. And while Puzzles acknowledged the otherworldly beings that Nash was friends with, and the Grays with their magic, he did not entirely accept the Detectives oracular assertions.

“I didn't see exactly what it was. You know it doesn't work that way.”

“What a helpful ability.”

“Puzzles, we don't have time for this. Let's argue about it over tea some other time.”

“Yeah.” Narci said disapprovingly. “We have to help Swag. I'll go get YJ.”

“No, dears. I saw this too. YJ is too far away, and Arkham is too curious about the outcome to involve himself. He merely wishes to observe.”

“We'll see about that.” Puzzles typed speedily on his tiny wrist keyboard. “I'll contact him myself...Oh.”

The answer he got pulled his mouth into a frown. Detective cleared their throat.

“As I was saying, I saw something important pertaining to Swag. And then I spoke to him.”

“Odious, isn't he?” Puzzles said at Detective's disgruntled expression.

“Swag made an important decision about where to go with his life, and while it may be different that what you three would do, it was his choice. That has been taken from him, by force of magic, and that cannot be allowed. We make our own fates, and we must support each other in our decisions. We will not allow him to fall. So, suit up dear children. We're staging a coup~”

“How many times do I have to tell you I am not a child?” Puzzles complained, but Nash and Narci were already dashing back to their respective universes, to gear up.

Nash didn't have much; a mismatched thrift store Sunday suit, made for someone much younger than him. A shoplifted self defense keychain he could stab with. A miniature canister of pepper spray. He also had a lockpick that he hid in his department store trilby, and a very sharp hat pin, as well as a pocket knife, a portable usb drive with a deadly computer virus, a set of jewelers tools that he used on wiring, and one of YJ's smoke bombs. Nash tied his mask-just a strip of black cloth with holes cut out-around his head, and returned through the worlds, to Puzzles apartment.

Puzzles had taken the time to gear up as well, in his coveted kelly green suit and brilliant purple gloves. The colors smashed against each other, practically glowing at the edges. The classic bowler perched on his head and sleek mask always made him look older, and Nash knew he had some wicked weaponry hidden away.

Narci didn't have many places to hide things in his form-fitting, hand painted unitard and gymnasts shoes, but Narci carried few weapons or tools. He didn't need them; Narci was actually very strong, and could hold his own well in a fight, all of which was clear by merely a look at him in this getup. Any items he needed, he kept in a slender harness that girded his waist and thighs. He said it was to keep his freedom of movement, and Nash knew he'd been training as a gymnast ever since he could walk, but Nash couldn't help but bashfully notice how the harness accentuated certain of Narci's assets. In fact, the outfit put everything on display, and with his tight black curls, and slim, diamond shaped mask that hid very little of his face, it seemed like Narci wanted to be seen.

He practically posed; shoulders back and chest out, nose proudly in the air. He was only an inch taller than Nash, but seemed much bigger next to Nash's shrinking slouch.

“Have we got everything we need?” Detective asked. All three young men nodded. “All right. You have all been to the Question Mark before. Do you know the internal layout?”

“I've been inside.” Puzzles said. “I know how both floors are laid out.”

“Me too.” Nash added.

“I've only seen the first floor.” Narci admitted.

“All right. So here's what we'll do.”

?~?~?~?~?

The crowd outside the Question Mark was thick with people and irony; scattered among clubbers finery were people sporting Riddler costumes-the gallows humor of Gotham. Everyone knew who owned this nightclub, as Swag had not just not hidden the fact, but had actively banked on it.

Puzzles slipped unnoticed into the crowd, making his way up to the front where he immediately picked a fight with the bouncer. The others used the distraction to find a way into one of the areas few surveillance blind spots.

“Do you think you can do it?” Detective asked quietly. Narci scanned the wall carefully, taking in the texture of the bricks, the decorative façade, the bars on the windows, the height of the roof.

“Yes.” he said confidently, and began to climb. Nash watched him scramble up the building, taking out security cameras and motion sensors along the way. His job was to destroy as much of the security system as possible; especially the flood lights on the roof. They didn't move again until Narci had disappeared over the top, then they sneaked along, hugging the wall, until reaching nearly the back of the building.

This area was employees only, and fenced in with tall chain link. Nash was a Gotham youth, and scaled it easily, pausing at the barbed wire coiled at the top. His jeweler's tools included a wire cutter, and after a few tries, he was able to remove a length of the barbed wire wide enough for him to pass through. Back on the asphalt, he began working on the lock. It was good quality, but nothing Nash couldn't pick. Swag was protecting against the basic Gotham punks, after all, not other Riddlers.

In the meantime, Detective had set down their briefcase and opened it, lifting out a honed woodcutter's ax, with a handle wrapped in blue leather.

“It's one of Jervis's.” They said at Nash's stare. “He insisted I bring it with me. It may prove useful after all.”

The lock clicked in Nash's hand, and he tossed it over his shoulder, letting the Detective breeze through the gate. It sucked they had to cause all this damage, but it was better than letting Swag get dragged off to jail just because some Gray thought it'd be funny.

Detective began examining the power meter, but Nash noticed movement and pulled them back around the corner. The two peeked around to see a pair of very tough looking women approach the employees entrance.

“Oh dear.” Detective whispered. “This could be bad. I've seen those two before; they're this worlds Query and Echo. Rotten luck that they'd be here tonight.”

“I'll distract them.” Nash volunteered. Detective grabbed his arm.

“You mustn't try to fight them.” they insisted. “They are very dangerous!”

“I won't.” Nash said. “Just trust me, okay?”

Detectives lips thinned out, but they let go.

Nash stuck his hands in his pockets, let his head droop and walked into the employee parking lot, kicking at a rock.

The women paused. He let just a little bit of his secret power seep out, a supernatural drug that mentally disarmed anyone who looked at him. These two would see whatever it was that would make them most sympathetic towards him.

“Hey, either of you two got two dollars I can borrow?”

“What's the matter kid?” one asked. “Fake ID didn't work out?”

“Yeah.” Nash said sullenly, petulance seeping out of his demeanor. “And my ride says she's gonna stay anyway, and I don't have any bus fare. Can't call my mom to come pick me up; I'd be grounded for a month.”

He'd slowly made his way over to them, acting exactly like a defeated teenager, and both women smiled condescendingly.

“Ha. It was a nice try kid. Here, take this and come back in a few years.”

Nash was just reaching out to take the money, mind whirring on how to continue the distraction, when the floodlights went out.

“What the fu-”

Nash whipped his hand out of his pocket and threw YJ's smoke bomb to the ground. It exploded into a miasma of choking green. Behind him, the sound of metal striking brick as Detective took the chance to shear the meter clean off the wall. The rest of the external lights went dark.

Beside him, something dropped into the cloud of smoke, landing on one of the searching women with a heavy thud. Nash flinched and threw himself through the employee entrance, hoping Narci hadn't killed her with the impact.

He skidded down the hall, hugging the walls, as the sounds of fighting faded behind him. The area was bathed in eerie green, the emergency lighting casting deep shadows.

“Lust, help me hide.” Nash whispered.

“~Of course. Relax yourself and let me embrace you~”

Nash concentrated on relaxing his body through the tickling sensation of Lusts hundreds of amorphous tendrils breaching his skin. They wrapped tightly around every inch of his body, covering him in a smoky bodysuit of shifting shadows.

Now camouflaged, he slinked down the hall and up the stairs, not entering the dance floor. He was sure it was trapped, waiting for hapless revelers to meet their makers. Maybe they deserved it, maybe they didn't; Nash didn't care about that very much, but he knew that Swag would.

He crept along the second story, the darkness itself seeming to muffle his steps. A door banged open, and Nash threw himself into the bedroom doorway, heart in his throat. UnSwag stalked by and down the stairs, grumbling angrily about the power.

Nash skittered into the newly vacated room before the door shut. It was full of darkened screens and neatly lined computer towers, their whirring hum silenced.

Swag had backup generators. Of course he would. He must have. And that's where UnSwag had to be heading. Nash readied his usb drive. The screens flickered back to life, and Nash jammed the usb in. He might only have a few moments.

Fingers flying he unleashed the malevolent little worm of code, then slipped back out into the now worryingly lit hallway. Down the stairs, towards the exit-

Snatched off his feet, and slammed headfirst into the wall. Lust took the edge off the blow, but it still rattled Nash's brain. UnSwag twisted his arm behind him, held him by his hair, and dragged him out onto the dance floor.

“Hey guys! You looking for this? You fucking looking for this?” He shook Nash hard, who squealed under the pressure on his arm. Narci, Puzzles, and the Detective all turned from their positions creeping along the walls in search of traps.

“Lust!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“~If I do it, he will be harmed! Perhaps permanently~” the demon whispered from within him. “~I can get you free, but he might not recover~”

“Hold off then. We didn't come to kill him.”

“Stop mumbling, brat.” UnSwag growled in his ear. “Whatever code you're trying to use, it won't work. They won't do a thing while I have you. Isn't that right?”

Detective held their hands up, palms empty. Jervis's hatchet was nowhere to be seen.

“Please. There is no need to endanger the boy.” they said gently.

“He endangered himself. He didn't have to throw in with you and invade my home, but he did. He made his own choice. There are consequences for that.”

“Look, we're not trying to hurt you or anything.” Puzzles said. “We're just trying to save you from regrets.”

“Who asked you?”

“You would have, if you were in your right mind. But you are being controlled right now, by one of those gray beings-”

“Puzzles!”

“Wrong answer!” UnSwag snarled, and flung Nash out onto the trapped floor.

The others began shouting. Nash hit a pressure plate, heard it click.

Nothing.

“What.” UnSwag said. Nash rose from the floor, grinning like the devil.

“Oops.” he said. “I think I broke it. Sorry.”

UnSwag shoved his hand into his jacket. Whatever he was reaching for, he never made it. Narci hit him with freight train force, and he went down instantly. Nash winced. Narci never did pull his punches.

The acrobatic Riddler swiftly had UnSwag tied with a cord from his harness. He immediately started wiggling free, so Narci perched on his back and held him down.

“Wow. One punch.” Puzzles sneered. “You are going to be so embarrassed when you wake up.”

“I am already awake!” UnSwag insisted. “Why don't any of you see? It was all just a pipe dream! It was never real. This is who I have always been.”

“Then why is this temporary?” Puzzles asked. “Why did you have to be pushed back into it by force? You know it's temporary, don't you?”

“It doesn't matter! I am who I'll always be! No matter what mask he puts on, I'll still be here. He'll never be rid of me. And what does it matter to you anyway? Why would you go so far to stop me?”

“We are rather fond of our dear Swag~” Detective said. “And we respect the decisions he has made.”

“Why do you like me that way so much? I've made an imbecile of myself, and I'm only trying to rectify that. You three! Isn't this the life you've chosen? And you! You might have retired, but you didn't put your brain on the shelf! All I do as your precious 'Swag', is waste my time with harlots and drink to oblivion. I hate him as me. It was a mistake.”

“You don't see the value in your own choices?” Detective asked. “You've put in so much effort. Do you see what you've built? The people still dance to your tune, it's just more literal this time.”

“Don't fucking start. That shit might work on these fetuses, but not-”

Narci stroked his hair gently, and UnSwag shuddered.

“Don't touch me!”

“Swag is perfect.” Narci asserted. “In a different way from us, yes. But you are wonderful like that.”

“Bullshit. None of us actually get along.” he jutted his chin towards Puzzles. “That little bitch hates everyone. The brat over there can't be trusted. And you...” he bucked, trying to throw Narci off. “Even as that frivolous idiot, I still don't respect you. No one does.”

Narci sighed, and stroked his hair once more.

“I know. But you tolerate me, and that's important too. In time, I'll earn the rest of it. I know how to work hard to become something great. That's why I can't stand to see you like this. All that effort, taken away.”

UnSwag groaned in annoyance.

“So what about the rest of you? Any more pithy speeches before I fade back into featherbrained worthlessness?”

“Two to midnight.” Puzzles said, checking his wrist computer.

“Nothing to say.” Nash added.

“Now we simply wait.” Detective finished.

“Fine.” UnSwag said. “If that's the official consensus. Just know that if this ever happens again, you're all on the list. So nobody better ever bring me back.”

“It'll be okay.” Narci said, stroking his hair one last time. “It'll be over soon.”

“Don't touch me.” UnSwag repeated. “Just...let me sleep, I guess.”

Instead of looming over their defeated foe, Detective, Puzzles, and Nash gathered to sit on the floor next to Narci and UnSwag. He lay quietly, as they all waited together for the last moments of the past to trickle away.

Puzzles wrist computer beeped. Everyone held their breath. If they were right about the temporary nature of Gray magic...

“Hey Narci? You're a handsome young man and' all, but would you mind getting the fuck off? Kinda crushin' my ribcage here.”

Narci hopped off his back immediately. Nash reached out for the rope binding him.

“Wait!” Detective commanded. “Relief cannot be allowed to overcome caution. If you would all be so kind as to move away...”

The young Riddlers drew back.

Detective knelt next to their captive and raised him up by the shoulders. Looked into the clean shaven face, the deep blue eyes, and kissed him, long and deep.

Narci gasped, but Nash knew they were like that sometimes.

“Disgusting.” Puzzles muttered. But when they parted, Swag was smiling.

“Hell of a welcome home. Got any more for me? I'm already all tied up, after all. But we probably better send the kiddies home first.”

“It's him.” Puzzles said flatly.

Nash and Narci cheered.

They untied him, checked him for injuries-Narci had hit him pretty hard after all. Narci apologized endlessly, but Swag waved it off.

“Not like I didn't earn it.”

“Um, can you apologize to the ladies for me too? When they wake up, I mean.”

“N-Nina? And Deirdre? You took them out? By yourself?”

Narci stood straighter.

“Well, Nash dropped a smoke bomb, and I didn't really want to hurt them or anything...but yes. I did.”

Swag patted Narci on the shoulder.

“I'm impressed, kid. Now never ever do that again.”

The young Riddlers didn't stay long; technically it was illegal for Narci and Nash to be in the club during business hours, even if the Question Mark wouldn't be opening tonight. 'Electrical malfunction' they had told the disappointed crowd. But for a while after that, Detective stayed by Swag's side, comforting arm around his shoulders.

“You guys did right.” Swag said. “There's a reason I didn't want to be like that anymore. Like, yeah, that's me, and that's still swimming around inside me. Everything I did, and everything I thought and felt. That's entirely me. But this is also me. This is what I chose.” he stroked his chin. “Ugh, he shaved me. Damnit, that's gonna take weeks to grow back just right. And where are my earrings?”

He got up and began searching around for his jewelry.

“Swag.”

“Yeah?”

“If you are serious about letting go of the past...may I suggest that you actually let go?”

They gestured at the green suit Swag was still wearing. He plucked at the lapels.

“Yeah...guess I've grown out of it, huh. Doesn't fit quite right anymore. I don't know why I kept all this stuff. Contingency, I guess. But...I don't need it anymore. Tell ya what, I'll pack all this stuff up, the suit, the hat, the cane, all of that. And I'll... I dunno. Throw it in the bay. Donate it to a museum. Something like that.”

“I could help, if you like.”

“Nah...this is really somethin' I should do myself. 'Sides, you guys already helped me out plenty tonight. Guess this whole Family business is worth somethin' after all. If you can see me at my worst and still stick around...I dunno, it's giving 'hope for the future', you know?”

Detective stayed the night, just talking while Swag packed, bathed, rested. And though they did see that hope Swag spoke of peeking through as he chattered about future plans, they couldn't help but to let their mind drift to the mystery they knew hung on the horizon.

Artist: @cardwrecks

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Shards of the Nexus: DDOS

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qUraM54

by Realityhelix

In honor of the recent AO3 attack, here’s a bunch of extremely short smut vignettes with all our favorite Riddlers. Lbr, none of these people are straight.

A note: Swag and Unswag are not brothers! They are the same man split into two different possible life paths. That story comes later. They refer to themselves as twins because they look nearly identical.

A WARNING!: Nash is underage! But I also remember what it was like to be seventeen. Anyway, I’ve put his little drabble at the end so you can skip it if you want. But I absolutely did warn you!

Words: 1454, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 14 of Shards of the Nexus

Fandoms: DCU

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Underage

Categories: Multi

Characters: Arkham!Riddler, Puzzles!Riddler, Swag!Riddler, Unswag!Riddler, Detective!Riddler, Narci!Riddler, YJ!Riddler, Nash!Riddler, Helix(oc), Lust(OC), Bruce Wayne, Jervis Tetch

Relationships: Arkham/Puzzles, Swag/Helix/Unswag, Detective/Jervis, YJ/Bruce, Nash/Lust

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qUraM54

[spinningorigins]

Hahaha, oh shit

Look what I found.

[therealityhelix]

Mixed Arcana

A sorceress, a clairvoyant, a diviner, and a ghost walk into a bar...

[realityhelixcreates]

Boarded Up Paradise pt 6

Nash tries to figure something out. Everyone tries to help.

Warning: extremely minor character death

song: Salt in Our Wounds-HIM (Both versions because I can't decide which one I like better)

Warning: Nash is still underage and some sexual-ish things do happen in this fic. Certain non-consensual actions are implied here and there.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions @whocares-idont

“Huh.” Narci said, staring at the steaming corpse.

“Yeah.” Nash said, echoing his consternation.

“Kinda disappointing, honestly.”

“I expected him to last longer.” Nash approached, poking the body with his cane, to confirm its state of death. “Not to win, of course, but not to just die instantly either. Is the cube defective?”

He turned his cane on the puzzle cube, but it was inert.

“I'll have to take it apart and check. In the meantime, we need to get him to the harbor.”

It was easy to find enough junk to tie to the corpse in order to make him sink instantly under the waves, and it was no more polluting than anything else that went into the water around there. The dissatisfaction sat in Nash's stomach like a bad meal.

“Hey Narci, you...does it ever bother you? When they die?”

Narci draped an arm awkwardly over Nash's thin shoulders. Narci often acted like someone who had just been introduced to the concept of touch; like it was something that he wanted, but did not know how to do. In a way it reassured Nash; Narci obviously cared about him, if he was so willing to step outside of his comfort zone to offer Nash affection in a way unfamiliar to him. Nash was also unfamiliar with affectionate touch, but they would learn together.

“Sometimes.” Narci admitted. “Not really though? When I'm on a heist, I try to avoid people. If someone gets in my way, they're dead, and that's that. I can't afford to be seen most of the time, or Nightwing will be on my trail. No witnesses. When it comes to traps though...well, the spectacle is part of the point, isn't it? They aren't supposed to die fast, so it's disappointing if they do.”

“Yeah...Maybe?” Nash murmured, uncommitted. He wasn't so sure that was it. Well, that was partially it, but also...

Wasn't he supposed to feel something?

Wasn't there supposed to be horror? Regret? Wasn't there supposed to be satisfaction? Why did he still feel empty?

“Do you want to go get a snack?” Narci asked. Nash shook his head.

“No. I...I think I'd like to go to bed actually. This was all kinda tiring.”

“Oh. Well yeah, and you've got school still too, don't you? Are you still going?”

“Yeah. Keeps me in a warm place for most of the day, even if it does feel kinda pointless.”

“So you'll need your sleep. Just...just be careful okay? If you ever need me for anything at all, just say so. Nothing will get in my way.”

Puzzles helped him dismantle the cube, Nash examining every little part. A misaligned wire, a tiny mistake on his part, had cost a man his life. Nash was of the opinion that he probably would have died anyway, but the point was to at least give him a chance. Make him confront his inadequacy, come to understand where he went wrong. Nash was perfectly willing to free his targets if they performed adequately, it was just rare. But the chance was still there, it had to be. It had to be, or he was just another mundane murderer.

They were murderers, Nash knew and accepted this, even as some tiny part of him knew that very acceptance was concerning. They were murderers, but they were not mundane. They were not brutes, or madmen. They were principled. They all had their reasons, and Nash knew, if nothing was done about the state of his world, nothing would change. Things had gotten so bad...it would take something equally as extreme to even begin to address it.

Puzzles agreed with him.

“People at the top of the heap have no incentive to change their ways.” he pointed out. “That incentive needs to be forced on them. Look at every revolution ever. Kings and Tsars, colonizing states and business owners given chance after chance, plan after plan to make things better. And each time, they ignore, they imprison, they slaughter anyone who dares to suggest things aren't already perfect. Then they are so surprised when those changes become written in their own blood. It isn't wrong to fight back against what's trying to kill you. Even insects do that.”

“But...shouldn't I feel guilty?” Nash asked. “Even a little bit?”

“Maybe. Maybe if you hadn't seen the rot beneath the bricks, you would. There comes a time in everyone's life where they become disillusioned, it just happened early for you. That simply means you have that much more time to become what you want to be. Initial mistakes like this-” Puzzles held up the dismantled cube. “-can be ironed out early.”

He had a point. Maybe not feeling that guilt was a blessing, rather than an indicator that something was terribly wrong with him. He'd been filled with guilt since his mother had died; maybe he had reached capacity.

Puzzles offered him a meal and a bed for the night, and this time Nash took him up on the offer. He was tired, and though he couldn't finish the meal-not just because he couldn't eat much in one sitting, but also because Puzzles liked his food blisteringly spicy-the awkward and overly formal care Puzzles showed him filled the emptiness inside just a little.

Nash kept his head down at school the next day, diligently taking his notes, and doing his best not to get on anybodies nerves. The girl who had been noticing him kept stealing glances his way. Normally, he would have ignored her, but right now...

Did she suspect him? She'd been paying so much attention to him lately. What did she want?

She caught him after school, just as he was leaving. What was her name again? Amy? Yes, Amy.

“Eddie! Hi!” she called, her voice sounding falsely chipper. She definitely wanted something from him, and it put him on edge.

“Er, hi Amy. What...what is it?”

She frowned slightly, just for a moment.

“Annie. Anyway, I was thinking, I've gotten a bit behind in class, and I noticed, you're really smart. You always do really well on the tests. I'd love to know your secret.”

The clumsily sly tone on the last sentence. She did suspect him, didn't she? Accusing him of having a secret. How much did she know?

“Well, actually, I was wondering if you'd like to study together, say tonight?” she continued, looking up through her eyelashes at him. “We could maybe be really helpful to each other, you know?”

Oh. He understood now, what her intentions were, and nearly blushed at the audacity of it. No one had ever tried that with him before, though he supposed it wouldn't be the last time someone made the attempt.

“O-okay. Well...Meet me at around six?” He gave her the address and she hurried off to her extracurriculars, a lively spring in her step.

Nash hadn't expected anything like this to happen for a while yet, but it might be interesting. In the meantime, he had someone he needed to talk to.

“Hey Swag? How do I flirt?” Nash asked, lightly sipping a small glass of ginger ale. It was before business hours at the club, so he was allowed inside. Those were the rules.

His elder counterpart leaned against the bar, his face splitting into a charming, weathered smile.

“That's so cute. You're growing up.”

“Don't talk down to me.” Nash sulked. “ I just figured you're probably the best at flirting.”

Swag shrugged.

“Maybe not the best ever, but damn good enough. Well...at your age? I'd say just be yourself, but...”

“But I'd point out the hypocrisy immediately.” Swag put on an act around other people, and everyone knew it. It was part of the draw. But Nash couldn't do that, not yet.

“Nail on the head. Flirtin' ain't necessarily something that can be taught. It's not just a series of pickup lines, though that can work if you play it right. It's a bit more like exaggerating whatcha got. Playing to your strengths. Me, I like to gas up my looks, and maintain that delicate balance between bragging and humor. Keeps people on their toes, and they love it. You though...”

“I'm not very humorous.” Nash stated. He knew that already. There were class clowns, and there were charmingly witty people, and he was neither of those things. Too serious, too weak, too focused on whatever he was doing. He stretched his thin brown hands out in front of him, and placed them to his cheeks, the only part of him that retained any of the round softness of childhood. They would probably melt away soon too, just as the rest of his body had.

“Looks, huh? I don't have that going for me either.”

Not when compared to the others, the unearthly perfection of Detective, Puzzles and Narci's sculpted beauty, Arkham's rough masculinity, Swag and YJ's warm, mature handsomeness. He wasn't even done growing yet! He was short and ungainly, and far too thin. His eyes were sunken, his skin neither dark enough to be striking, nor pale enough to be conventional. And people didn't find intelligence attractive when it was in the wrong body, when it used words awkwardly, when it was shy and hostile, and wounded.

“Ehh, well. It's not so bad.” Swag interrupted his musings. “At the risk of sounding weird, you've got some good points. Nice smile, nice hair, beautiful eyes. You're prolly gonna grow up pretty handsome. You maybe won't knock 'em dead right now, but you've got potential. Anybody getting in on the ground floor now might be in for something good. Just be responsible, okay? You need any, uh, supplies, you can ask me, it's fine.”

Nash made a face.

“Yeah that does sound kinda weird.”

“I figured. Sorry little man, I'm still working on this big bro/weird uncle thing. So, it maybe depends more on what you want out of...whatever it is that's on your mind.”

“Well...something came up kinda suddenly, and I thought I might need help. But maybe I should just be myself. If somebody wants me, then I'm what they're gonna get, after all.”

“Not a bad philosophy.”

“And I'll have a gift for them too. Everyone likes gifts.”

“Sounds like a plan, little man. Good luck.”

Shadows surrounded Nash the instant he stepped inside, a whirlwind embrace of worried demon.

“~You didn't come back~” Lust exclaimed. “~You went out after that officer of yours, and you didn'tcome back! I remembered that these officers sometimes carry guns, and the human body is so fragile. You're not hurt are you? He did not hurt you~”

“No, I-I'm fine! He's dead, it's nothing. I just got caught up in what I was doing and crashed at Puzzle's place. And then I had school, and...you were really worried about me?”

“~Yes! Why wouldn't I be? Do I not know all the terrible things that can befall a mortal soul? And with no contact from you, how could I know you were safe~”

“No, I just-I mean...I didn't know you cared about me that much.”

The demon pulled back, eyes as blue and round as always.

“~Well. It looks as if I do. You and I, we have no one else in this world, do we? Currently, all our allies are in other realities, and are not always available. But the two of us have this domicile, and this shared space feels better with you in it.~”

“Oh. I...um...” he should say something, he thought, but the words clung to his tongue, refusing to be released.

A tentative knock at the back door saved him. He rested his hands on Lusts shadowy shoulders, stepping out of the demon's embrace.

“Wait here.” Nash said. “I've brought you a gift.”

[realityhelixcreates]

All the players of the Nexus, in order of appearance. Helix, Detective, YJ, Arkham, Puzzles, Swag, Nash (and 'friend'!), and Narci.

[realityhelixcreates]

Even reborn, Narci had issues.

Narci basically WAS issues.

Artist: @miasmacaron​

[realityhelixcreates]

Shards of the Nexus: La Belle Malefique

Finding Narci.

We're gonna throw a great big content warning on this one for slurs and hateful language. Puzzles had some gender essentialist ideas to overcome, but Narci was a straight up phobe, and his language and thought processes reflect this most horribly.

Song: Dance of Thorns-Homestuck (Strife!)

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions @whocares-idont

Detective hurried through the darkened streets, following their silent, yet insistent, internal compass.

This way. Then this way. Then this way.

In the apartments above them, they could hear people complaining about the sudden power outage, see candles and flashlights lighting up in the open windows.

This way. Then this way. Detective followed the guiding knowledge like a fluttering butterfly.

A Gotham city block without power was not the encompassing darkness one might have expected. The buildings were blackened, yes, but the thick cloud cover caught the copious light pollution of the rest of the city, and lit up a dull red.

This way. Down this alley. And...

Up.

Above them, against the background of ruddy clouds, two great birds flew. They danced in the air, bouncing off the brick, vaulting the fire escape. The black and the blue Detective recognized; that particular bird also flew over their Gotham as well. But the lime green and mauve...

That was very different.

The dueling dancers disappeared over the rooftop. Acting quickly, Detective hooked the ladder of the fire escape, and yanked it down. They were not an athletic person, and by the time they got to the roof, Nightwing and the Riddler were nearly to the other side.

With his skintight outfit, acrobatic prowess, black hair and blue eyes, he would not have looked out of place with all the orphans the Batman kept collecting. Perhaps Mr. Wayne had simply missed this one, but what an amusing thing that would be: a riddling Robin!

A sparkling trail caught their eye; jewels, spilled across the roof from a torn pouch girdled at the Riddler's waist. So that was tonight's haul. Detective scooped up a thin chain, diamond drop pendant throwing multifaceted fire.

The light caught Nightwing's eye.

“What are you doing?” he exclaimed. “Get to the street! It's dangerous here!”

“When is the night's wing like a sour note?” the Riddler asked. A powerful kick to the stomach sent Batmans protege flying over the edge of the roof.

“When they're both flat.” he finished.

Detective clapped. The Riddler whirled to face them.

“Bravo!” they exclaimed. “Nightwing is a challenging foe. The riddle could use some workshopping, but we do what we can on the fly, don't we? He's probably on his way back up though, so we should be away quickly. Don't worry, I am only here to help.”

Detective watched the young mans expression morph from confused to incredulous, wary, and finally disgust.

“Are you crazy?” he demanded, a hard edge to his airy voice. “Is that what you are? I went to all that trouble to take the power out so no one would see me...and now I have to kill you anyway!”

“I assure you, that is unnecessary.” Detective said. “I am on your si-!”

The Riddler charged. Detective retreated to the fire escape.

?~?~?~?~?

Ed couldn't believe it. Some fool civilian had followed him up to the roof! Paparazzi? Extortionist? Ed deserved the attention, but he couldn't afford it tonight. But then the fool had piped up in some weird sissy voice and made fun of him!

He was scrambling down the fire escape now, but Ed could see that his body was thin and restricted in his close-cut clothes. This weird man was weak, and not very fast. Plus, he kept slowing down to place what looked like a shiny string across the width of the fire escape. The strings clung to Ed as he barreled down the stairs after his prey, but they didn't slow him down at all.

Somehow, the strange, graceful man reached the ground before he did, but Ed gathered himself for great leap-

-and crashed to the ground as a web of pain constricted around his body. He was bound! Bound by something he couldn't see, but could feel, cutting into his skin, criss-crossing his body with stinging strands. He writhed, but the cuts only deepened. The unusual man stood with his fists crossed in front of him, as if pulling something tight, and Ed could just barely see the shine of light reflecting off the strings in his gloved hands.

“What is this?” he demanded. “Some kind of sharp wire?”

“Why, that's exactly what it is.” the odd man said with his songlike voice. “I don't like doing this kind of thing, you know. I am reformed. Hurting people is no longer in my repertoire. But I still remember how, and will gladly defend myself, if need be. Now please, let us talk instead.”

Up close, Ed could finally see in detail what it was that made the man seem so weird and unsettling to him. While he was wearing a suit, the cut of it was wrong. It was cut for a woman, detailed for a woman, with peplums and slim lapels, a scarf with a bow rather than a masculine tie. He was wearing jewelry, makeup, women's shoes!

He was a freak.

Ed's father had warned him about people like this. People so flawed and twisted that they had to pretend to be something else, so envious of the perfection of the great and the good, that they had to prey on their superiors in order to even feel human. To fulfill their deviant hungers. His father had warned him that they would try to corrupt him if they ever got close, and this one already had him tied up!

“I'm not talking to you, you degenerate freak!” he snarled. “I know what you are.”

“Let's nevermind that, shall we? Please hold still. You are beginning to bleed. Now, have you not recently noticed some odd happenings around the city? People disappearing and reappearing? Places or buildings that are not where they should be, or simply shouldn't exist at all? Out of place animals?”

“Fuck off! I told you, I don't talk to abominations! I know what you want! You won't be ravishing me you nasty pervert! Touch me and I'll gut you like a fish!”

“Good heavens. Get a grip on yourself young man! This is rather important. Now listen, and I will let you free. I have no intentions whatsoever of doing anything to you. Put your fears and threats aside. You and I have something in common, Edward Nigma.”

Ed flinched.

“How do you know that name?”

“Have you noticed any of the things I mentioned?”

“Answer me!”

“Have you?”

A backwards street. A small herd of antelope washed ashore in the harbor. Lost children who had no parents in the city looking for them. Everyone knew something strange was going on. Was this sick creep responsible?

“Is it you? Are you the one doing this?” Some new supervillain like one of those overpowered freakshows from Metropolis? “If I kill you, I'll be a hero.”

“Set that thought aside this instant, young man. I can't do anything of the sort. Your world is colliding with others. I am from one of those other worlds. I am Edward Nigma. I am a friend.”

Ed reeled. Impossible. Even if the multiple worlds thing was true, he refused to believe that another him could ever be such a detestable atrocity as this creature, with his incredibly green eyes, and perfect skin, and beautiful hair. Revolting.

“I know it's difficult to believe, but I represent a small group of like individuals, a Riddler coalition, if you will-”

“I won't!” Ed insisted. “Are you stupid? Who would ever believe that? Let me go, you wretched sodomite!”

Finally, consternation pulled at the serene face.

“Watch your language.” he warned sharply. “I still control the strings, you know.”

Ed seethed silently, hateful disgust a thick veneer over growing terror. He was at this freaks mercy. If those wires were pulled tightly enough...

Just because he said he didn't mean Ed any harm, didn't mean he was telling the truth. Selina had taught him that much. But what else could he do?

“F-fine.” he hissed. “What do you want then?”

He began to spin a tale, a wild story of multiversal collisions, multiple versions of reality, of himself. Of an oncoming danger. It was insane. Unbelievable. But...

But he'd walked down the backwards street. He'd seen the poor drowned antelope washed up on the beach. Selina and Otis had both mentioned the lost children who shouldn't exist. Something was going on. Could it be this?

Could this be him? Could he actually be something so strange, so horrifying, so wrong, in some other world?

Did that make Ed the pinnacle? The one perfect Riddler, in a line of otherwise flawed prototypes?

That would make sense. But he wasn't sure. He didn't trust this monstrous thing. Everyone knew that no matter how innocent, how beautiful these creatures seemed, there was only one thing they really wanted. This man was trying to trick him!

“No!” Ed cried, beginning to squirm. “You're lying! I hate liars!”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold still!” his captor exclaimed. The wires cut deeper into his skin, but he could break them, he knew he could!

The strange man's head whipped up at a sudden sound, and he cursed quietly, releasing the wires.

“Nightwing.” he whispered. “Run! I'll meet you again later.”

He dashed out of sight, leaving Ed to wriggle free and run from Nightwing's pursuit.

?~?~?~?~?

“So it went poorly, I take it.” Arkham said, examining their face and hands closely for injuries.

“He reacted even worse than Puzzles did, I'm afraid.” Detective admitted sadly.

“Well. Puzzles is being 'educated'. You think this one has the potential?”

“I swear I saw him. He's important somehow. Linked to the danger.”

“But that's all you have. The impression of a link. Your recruitment attempts might not all be meant to succeed, dear. Did you think of that?”

Detective sighed. “I hadn't wanted to. But of course it's possibility. Failure is...”

“Not something we like to contemplate.” Arkham finished. “But not everyone can be worthy of the name. I have my doubts about someone who goes practically feral over something as meaningless as physical appearance. Does someone like that really have the flexibility of mind necessary to be one of us?”

“He was very young.” Detective pointed out. “Younger than Puzzles. He may simply never have been exposed.”

“That's his problem then. It still shows a rigidity of thought that we both know wouldn't do us any favors.”

“And it was bad timing.” Detective continued. “He was in the middle of a fight.”

Arkham grasped their chin, rough fingers firm but careful on their flawless skin.

“Don't throw yourself away on this. There are others, aren't there? There is a statistical probability that some of us simply won't fit. This is not something you can prevent. Look for the others. If it comes down to it, I can test him myself. But there are others to who can take his place.”

“I...suppose so.” Detective said. But the boy's skill and drive clutched at their brain, and things that got stuck in their head like that rarely shook free easily.

?~?~?~?~?

“Rather lucky, actually.” Selina was saying. “One of those wires was wrapped around your throat. The cuts aren't deep, but...Hm. I don't know of anyone who uses razor floss like that. I contemplated it once, but it's very challenging to control.”

“Yeah, he knew what he was doing.” Ed sulked. He hadn't wanted to come to Selina after his scuffle with that filthy pervert, but he'd robbed that store for the money she could get him, and he needed what money he could get. He'd also hoped she might know who the bastard was, but that was a no go. “But he won't get me again. If I see him again, I'll just kill him. No tranny fag will ever touch me.”

Selina clucked her tongue, pressing the alcohol wipe a little harder against one of his thin cuts. He hissed at the sting.

“You seem pretty sure that's what they wanted.” she said.

“Well, don't they all?” he said. Everything he'd ever heard pointed to that conclusion. His father always told him...

“Actually...no.” Selina said. Ed stared. She shrugged. “They don't. Not anymore than anyone else.”

“H-how do you know?” he demanded.

“How do you?” she countered.

“W-well...”

“Your daddy told you?” she asked, cutting right to the heart of it. “Didn't you kill that guy? Why listen to anything he said?”

“He wasn't wrong about everything. Miss Kyle, I am an extremely handsome young man. You've said so yourself. I can't trust that any such person would be able to overcome their freakish nature when presented with a specimen like me.”

Selina snorted.

“You weren't a part of the gymnastics community!” he protested. “You don't know what it was like!”

“Did you get propositioned often?”

“All the time! Even when I was a kid! Practically everyone who talked to me was after me. My father was wrong about a lot. He deserved it. But he protected me from them. Now I've got to do it myself.”

“Hmm. Everybody? Are you sure they weren't just trying to be friendly? Just talking to someone who happened to be nearby? Did your father really tell you that everyone who talked to you was a predator? Even the other kids? Did you ever think that was just a way to control you?”

Eds face blanked. No, he hadn't actually ever thought that.

“Besides, why get mad about someone being a freak? You're one too.”

He jerked away from her.

“I'm not!” he exclaimed.

“You wear a leotard covered in question marks. You painted them yourself. You leave godawful riddles at the sites of your robberies. You think a normal person does any of that? You're surrounded by freaks, kid. Otis talks to rats. I wear cat ears and fuck a furry on the Gotham rooftops twice a week.”

Ed knew his face was going red, and looked away. Selina was a very pretty and mature woman, and hearing her talk in such a vulgar fashion was embarrassing. Also it made him feel weird.

“Oh good grief, Ed, you're old enough to know about things like that! Aren't you?”

Ed kept quiet. Selina sighed deeply.

“If your father wasn't already dead, I'd rip his guts out for making me be the one to have this conversation with you. Alright, so first of all, sex and gender-”

?~?~?~?~?

The searching had been a slight challenge, but Detective had welcomed it. The tiny diamond drop necklace they had picked up in this young Riddler's world still had its jeweler's tag. They could trace it back to the jeweler who created it, the store it was stolen from, when it was stolen, and most importantly, who was fencing the gems that were stolen alongside it.

Selina Kyle. The Catwoman.

They were on good terms with the Catwoman of their world, and were pleased to find her as classy and personable here.

“You got that kid real tangled up, you know. “ she held up the diamond pendant, letting rainbows spark across their faces. “Is it true? The story you told him about other worlds?”

“I would like to know his location.”

“That could be...expensive.” she said. “I'm not usually one to rat out my suppliers, you know. Kid's young, fumbles sometimes, but he has the potential to make it big. And if he doesn't, he's still a decent thief. Good eye for valuables. So why should I?”

“If you are interested in a little fun, you might just wander down to Cobbert Park, on Lance Street, and shimmy between the trunk of the big maple and the fencepost that's marked with the Hangul for 'path'. I bet you'll find something very interesting there.”

“And I suppose that's my answer. Well, I'll have to think about it.”

“Why, I couldn't ask for more~”

A few days later, they were back in her presence, exchanging addresses.

?~?~?~?~?

Ed couldn't believe what he was seeing. That tranny freak was at his door! How? How had he found him? And...was he wearing one of the jewels Ed had lost?

Would the indignities ever cease?

This...creature, had tricked him, escaped him, stolen from him, prompted Selina-a person he looked up to-to give him an utterly mortifying lecture on sex and sexuality, and now he was taunting him by showing up at his door, wearing those stolen goods!

Ed was going to murder him!

No...no...Selina had said to control his emotions. That he could maybe learn something from this person. That he could at least try.

So he would at least try.

He opened the door.

“You...come in.” he said. The trann-person, the person, traipsed right in, as if he owned the place, but he did remove his frilly hat and coat, and he looked more...normal underneath.

But that just proved his duplicitousness, didn't it? Hiding what he was, pretending-

No, no. Selina had said, she knew people, and if Ed wanted to stay on good terms with her, he'd better learn...

Ed could learn. Ed was good at learning, when he was allowed to. Besides, he couldn't afford to lose Selina. She was the only person who would fence his stolen goods. Everyone else was afraid of him, and they should be, but that also limited his income supply considerably.

“So. What do you want?”

His guest, removed the diamond pendant and handed it over. Ed seethed over the insult, but pushed it down, and accepted the jewel.

“We got off on the wrong foot.” his guest said, his voice rich and songlike. “It is rude to interrupt someone while they are 'at work', so to speak. I hope I find you under less stressful circumstances.”

“I guess so. How did you find me, actually?”

“I am observant and persuasive. As I assume you are, and all of our kind must be.”

“That. What is that? That story. That doesn't make sense. You don't make sense.”

A mysterious smile curved his guests glossed lips.

“Let me explain to you then.” he turned away, to move further into Ed's lair.

Ed balled his fists together, and brought them both down on the back of his head.

He crumpled, and Ed caught him, dragging him gingerly into the darkness.

Ed would make him make sense.

?~?~?~?~?

Something heavy slammed into Ed, hard enough to flatten him to the ground and drive all the air from his lungs. He gasped for breath, unable to even cry out as whatever it was thudded into his prone form a second time. He'd never been hit that hard in his life. He'd never even hit the mat that hard. He hadn't realized the shock a body went through after an impact like that, why he couldn't seem to move.

A second man was there, rumpled suit and combat boots, stubbled chin and mad eyes. Ed hadn't even heard him sneak in. He stood over Ed like a monument to the power and brutality he sought. On his suit were grimy golden question marks. In his hands, a cane that might as well be a sledgehammer, grungy green and also shaped like a question mark. And on his face, an expression of pure judgment.

“Really, dear?” his voice was smoke-rough, mocking. “Some punk kid caught you by surprise?”

Ed's captive delicately cleared his throat.

“I didn't exactly come looking for a fight.” he said, his musical voice evil in Ed's ears. “I wanted to speak with him on his own turf so he might feel safer. Threats to disembowel me were a bit more serious than I previously gave him credit for.”

“Credit? I wouldn't give him any at all.” the rough man glanced around in disdain. “Look at this sorry excuse for a lair. Sloppy set-up. Not a spark of creativity.”

Ed made to move, and the man lifted his cane to strike again.

“Throw the knife over there.” he commanded. His cane twitched when Ed didn't immediately comply, but he didn't repeat himself. Ed tossed the knife. Better that than to get hit again.

“Can't even torture someone properly.” he continued, as if critiquing Ed's schoolwork. “What are those cuts? Who taught you how to restrain someone? Those knots are worthless. If our little Detective had wanted to leave, they could have gotten up and gone whenever they wanted.”

Ed tilted his head back to look at his captive. The gross abomination had a slightly guilty expression on his face. His shoulders wriggled, and within a few moments, his hands were free of the cords.

Ed burned with humiliation. Again. The wretched creature had tricked him again! Made a fool of him, this time in front of someone else!

“I'll slaughter you both.” he promised, his soft voice shaking with rage. “I'll hang your bodies in Gotham park.”

The rough man looked down his crooked nose at Ed.

“Mundane.” he spat derisively. The proclamation itself could have gutted Ed.

“I'm not-!” he started.

“Common. Unremarkable. Boring.” the man cut him off, poison dart words.

“You don't know anything about me!”

“I see people like you every day. Pathetic clouds of braggadocio with no legs to stand on. Banal. Insipid. Derivative. They never have anything to offer, and nobody cares when they're gone.”

“I'm better than that!” he shouted, a quick kip-up bringing him to his feet. The man stepped forward, shoving the head of his cane into Ed's stomach just at the moment of unbalance, and knocking him onto his rear.

“Prove it.” the man challenged. “What do you have to offer?”

Ed tried to stand again, to get around the cane, but the man had a pistol in his hand. Ed hadn't seen him pull it.

“Do you have anything? Anything other than this?” he nudged Ed's chest with the head of his cane. “You're really proud of this body, aren't you? But bodies age. They weaken. Do you have anything to carry you when that happens? Mind? Spirit? You look weak. Do you have what it takes?”

“I'm-” he tried once again to get up, to spit defiance in the mans face, but the venomous words had gripped his heart, and the gun pointed at his face drained his spirit.

“Arkham.” the deviant man said quietly, but the other kept his gun level.

“There are three rooms ahead of you.” the man said. “One is a furnace at five hundred degrees. Another is filled with mustard gas. The third houses a hungry wolf who hasn't eaten in a year. Where do you go to escape safely? Quickly now!”

His mind raced, but the fear, and disorientation, the suddenness of it all distracted him. Was he stronger than a hungry wolf? Could he run through the furnace fast enough to survive? Could he hold his breath in the gas room? No, that stuff burned skin, didn't it?

“So slow.” the man sneered.

But the answer bloomed in him, hope spreading its petals wide.

“I stay here!” he said. “The room I'm in is safe, so I stay.”

The man rolled his eyes.

“And never make any progress at all.” Contempt oozed from every word. “You are not the Riddler.”

“Y-you don't tell me-!”

“You should let this one go, dear.” the man said to the degenerate, ignoring him completely. “He simply isn't going to measure up to the others. He isn't worthy of the name.”

With the gun off of him, and the man turned away, Ed leapt to his feet and lunged.

He felt the crack of the cane against his skull, but only for a moment.

When he opened his eyes again, his head was splitting and his face felt sticky. But he was alive. That man-another Riddler?-had failed to kill him.

No. The memory of the mans frigid, scornful eyes filled his mind. If he had wanted Ed dead, he would be dead. He knew it down in his quivering guts.

He tried sitting up, but his hair was stuck to the floor by his own congealing blood, and he had to painfully peel his curls up. Everything felt tender and swollen. He was afraid to look in the mirror. Ed slowly made his way to the tub, stripping carefully out of his sodden leotard, and running the coldest water he could get. It wasn't quite an ice bath, but it did begin to numb the pain in his body.

His head still throbbed. He was afraid to touch it, afraid to try to wash his hair. He'd never seen so much of his own blood before. The fear sparked his anger, disgust in himself for being so faint of heart.

Common, the man had called him. Denied him his excellence. Denied him his name. All in the defense of some simpering transvestite!

Were they lovers? Disgust crawled down his throat at the thought. That he might have been beaten up, humiliated by some kind of faggot, no matter how masculine and powerful he had seemed...

Searing hatred filled him, hot, raging tears stung his eyes. He couldn't let this go. He would show them. He'd prove it. He was something special, he always had been, he was meant for greatness! He would show them, and they would have to acknowledge it!

They wanted him to. It hit him like lightning. They wanted him to. That was why he'd been left alive. The man had given him a time limit. He had a year. A year to figuratively join the pack. And if not...

He almost howled with frustration when the answer came to him.

A wolf that didn't eat within a year would be dead.

[realityhelixcreates]

Are the Riddlers religious?

A more difficult question than you might think. Gotham, as a part of the DCU is aware of the various supernatural and superhuman entities that exist within their universe, and the Riddlers would be aware of even more than the average person. What makes a god? What makes something worthy of worship? How does a culturally Christian society like America reconcile these entities?

The Riddlers each have thoughts about god or gods, but only Helix and Narci actually worship anything, like with prayer and ritual and offerings, the trappings of religion. The others? Well, this is the best I can really give you:

Arkham: Antitheist-If gods exist, they need to die.

Detective: Ietsism-They are part of reality, but there are parts of reality beyond them. There is an overarching, transcendent reality that they can occasionally see into. They believe the existence of the Nexus proves them right.

YJ: Agnostic-If there are gods, it doesn't matter. We are the ones that built the pyramids, we are the ones who invented writing, and we are the ones who impact each others lives. Worship yourself.

Swag/Unswag: Apatheistic Omnist-Yeah gods exist. Probably all of them. But they aren't worthy of us, honey.

Helix: Draconolotrix-Worships dragons. Especially a specific dragon, who is also a deity among dragonkind. She is technically also a priestess of this goddess, though her clerical powers are weak and very specific.

Puzzles: Staunch atheist, no matter what he sees or learns.

Narci: Syncretic polytheist-Xie worships Thoth, Hermaphroditus, and (somewhat ironically) Persephone, in her role as a goddess of death and rebirth.

Nash: Demonolotor-while he wouldn't claim to worship demons, he does consort, trade, barter, and deal with them very often. Since Lust is technically a minor deity(an elevated daimon), Nash also has minor clerical powers.

[therealityhelix]

Nraci was a little different than the others.

Xie wasn't 'born a genius' like xie believes the others were. Xie had to build xir intellect in secret, away from xir father's overseeing eye.

Which was more difficult than it might sound. Narci's father didn't hit xir, but he did control every second of xir life. Every move xie made, every thing xie learned, every meal xie ate was carefully and completely controlled.

Narci came from a middle class family. Xir mother had a very difficult pregnancy, and unfortunately died from complications shortly after xir birth. Xir father was a gynastics trainer who owned a training center. Narci's father had xir whole life planned out; xie was going to become an olympic gold medalist, and they instilled in Narci from birth that that was xir destiny and only reason for living. Narci was only allowed the sparsest time for play and study. Eventually playtime was taken away altogether, and study was whittled down to only what was needed to get the necessary grades.

Narci's father pulled xir from public school in the first grade, when xie began showing interest in things other than gymnastics, such as spending time with friends. Xie was homeschooled and socially isolated for the rest of xir childhood and far into their teenage years.

Narci was never properly socialized and has difficulty with healthy interpersonal relationships. This follows xir into adulthood. Narci's father demanded perfection, convincing Narci that xie was simultaneously never good enough, yet also better than everyone else. Narci has little patience for imperfection, but also refuses to acknowledge flaw in xirself or in others they have accepted as authority figures.

Narci needs authority figures. Xie never learned how to live on xir own, having learned next to no life skills from xir father. Once Narci focuses on someone as such a figure, they gain xir complete devotion and affection, and xir's near complete obedience. This isn't always a good thing. In fact, it often isn't. Narci is intense and often violent or creepy, because of the aforementioned lack of social development. Narci obsesses over individuals and finds it hard to regulate xir emotions. Helix both helps and doesn't help with this. She does teach xir many life skills, and tries to give advice on the social problems that she notices, but she became one of the authority figures that Narci devoted xirself too, and doesn't understand what's going on.

Narci was never allowed to make friends and definitely didn't get the sexual education necessary. Xie was taught that feelings of attraction were a waste of time, a distraction, adjacent to evil. Girls should not be trusted, and boys were worse. Boys were much worse.

This latent homophobia and inability to tell affection from attraction caused Xie a lot of problems when Xie met and started to care for the other Riddlers.

Over many years, Narci settles into a sort of panromantic asexuality. Xie isn't sex-repulsed, but still has problems with linking arousal with violence and homicidal ideation, and will not engage in sexual activities without being heavily physically restrained. Those instances are uncommon; the medication and recreational drugs Narci uses have the side effect of lowering xir libido drastically.

Xie used he/him pronouns until a few years after Helix took xie in. After returning from the dead, Narci didn't feel human anymore. Xie was a pair of bracelets. Inanimate objects that would possess any shape that wore them, human or not. After coming to accept this new way of being, Narci chose a neopronoun xie felt reflected xir feelings about xirself.

Narci's designs are meant to reflect a conflict between freedom and restriction, with xir post resurrection design being the most restricted, and their present design being the least.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: Applesauce pt. 4

Everybody tries.

@cardwrecks��� @captainbaddecisions​

?~?~?~?~?

The time whizzed by as he wondered what he was going to do now.

“You baleful, deleterious, idle-brained douche bag! “

Oh. Die, that's what.

He turned just in time for Narci to grab him roughly by the shirt. The kid was shorter than him by a decent amount, but strong enough to twist his head off, and he felt his toes leave the floor.

“Hey, watch the threads!” he protested in a watery voice. Narci shook him like a rattle.

“Fuck your threads! I'll burn down your closet! I'll burn down your whole life!” Narci exclaimed, then shuddered so hard, his black ponytail shook. He set Swag back down, very carefully, and released his clothes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. But just...how could you? You're supposed to be the best of us. How could you?”

“I'm not the best of anything, Narci.” Swag said, leaning against the bar to let his heart rest, ignoring the sticky mess that still dripped. “I'm not a role model. Not really. I'm a fuckup in good clothes. I mean, it's not that I don't try, it's that when I make mistakes, they are really big mistakes that get people hurt. Helix. Harvey. Puzzles. You. Fuck, I coulda done something for you, way back. But I turned you away. I was too busy pretending I had no obligation to anyone else but myself to see how everything was connected. That I could at least try to help someone who should have been like a little brother. I...the idea of me is far better than the actuality of me.”

“Swag. You know you couldn't have really done anything for me back then, right? I would have just killed you instead.” the wavering tone was back, a permanent feature in his voice. “Mine was a sickness that couldn't be cured with human hands. And part of me is missing now. I didn't come back whole. Maybe I'm better this way. But you...why did you hurt her? I don't understand that. Her hand is so badly burned that our medicines did nothing! She was crying so much, and she couldn't actually tell me. What did you do? And why?”

“It wasn't supposed to go down like this. It was supposed to...I don't even know. I never meant it to hurt her, I'd never...I'd never mean to do that. I just started thinking down the wrong road, and I got swept away. I try not to do that. It always goes bad. Now, I know a lot of you think I've allowed myself to dumb down, and Unswag doesn't hesitate to point out that I don't allow myself to think, but-”

“It's an attempt at self control.” Narci stated. “I know. I know.”

Narci's new eyes had been pleas for help since the moment he'd opened them. Swag believed him.

“Got paranoid. Got serious about it. Got this dumb thing.”

Swag showed Narci the little wire. He'd twisted it around his left ring finger, like a true fool.

Narci, possessed of the simian curiosity writ large in Edwards Nigma the multiverse over, grasped his hand for a better look.

For the next few minutes, Swag held Narci's lifeless body in his arms, whispering grief and apology. If Helix had been mad at him before, she really was going to turn him inside out now. She was ready to fistfight Satan himself for this kid.

The doorbell rang.

This was the worst possible time. He was in mourning, damnit! Who could even be at his door at this hour?

Swag stared up into the dark cowl, panic thumping in his blood. There was a body in his parlour. He was wearing contraband. He'd been hiding a second self. Not to mention possession of controlled substances, and the aiding and abetting of known criminals from other universes. Surely any of that would be enough to put him away again. Maybe forever and ever this time.

“What could you possibly want?” Swag asked, trying to keep his voice from trembling. He was pretty sure his hammering pulse was loud enough to be heard.

“The Nth metal, Nigma. Where is it? Why do you have it?”

“Oh this thing? This fuckin' thing? You can have it!” Swag yanked it from his finger and flung it into the parking lot. “Take it! I never wanna fuckin' see it again. Worthless scrap of shit. You want it, go get it, just leave me alone. I don't want nothin' to do with it.”

He slammed the door shut. And waited.

It didn't smash back open in his face, so it looked like he'd been taken at face value. The wire would be gone; no matter where it landed, it would be found. And good riddance.

He turned, then flung himself back against the door, heart in his throat choking off a scream. Narci's body lurched down the hall towards him, flopping and stumbling like a puppet on very loose strings.

“Narci?” Swag whispered. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sor-”

He mumbled over and over again, growing hoarser and more urgent with every shuffling step closer, until it became a hyperventilating plea as Narci pressed his drooling, slack-jawed face against Swag's chest.

“Could...n't...get...back...in...while...you...were...touch...ing...me...” The words escaped from Narci's mouth, each syllable a labored puff of air.

“I'm sorry.”

“At...least...you...grieved...”

Ooh, ooh, that cut. Because the first time, he hadn't.

No one had.

Guilt choked him silent once more, and Swag carefully, cautiously curled his arms around the boy's shoulders. Maybe he should have done this sooner. Maybe years ago.

But the second best time was now.

“D-does it hurt?”

“No...can't...feel...an...y...thing...”

“That actually sounds worse.”

“Yes...”

“Anything I can do?”

“Must...go...home...”

Swag helped him to the special door, and let him slip through, just like Helix did. It seemed the way was still closed only to Swag himself.

There was a lot of cleaning up to do, partially gelled apple goop, a broken mirror. It smelled so good that it hurt; his favorite apples reduced to a soup of memories that would now never be made. Forced to mop up what should have been a sweet song on his tongue, no more than a paraklausithyron to the world now barred to him.

He glanced at the sky while taking the trash out. Cloudy, as usual. Starlight was the rarest commodity in Gotham. Would he ever see it again?

Swag tested the door over and over during the next few days, even under the scorn of his pale twin, with whom he'd gotten into a terrible row upon returning. Just like old times.

Back and forth and back and forth, until a small hand reached out and pulled him through.

That nauseating, semi-familiar feeling of falling without moving. Stomach twisted around his spine, blood in the brain and feet, and the unbreakable, all-encompassing cold.

An eternity in an hourglass, then a shocking blast of humid heat. His glasses fogged as he gasped, gulping in the warming air.

Clutching his pinkie finger was a tiny, blue-eyed doll of a child, a little girl who, aside from her barely contained mass of curly orange hair, clearly resembled a miniature Helix.

“Hey there, Maddie-mads.” he said, taking in the lush garden around him. “How're you doing today?”

“I'm okay.” she said in her chipper, squeaky little voice. “But you're not. Momma's not either”

“Ah. I imagine not. Did she, uh, say why?”

Maddie shook her head.

“She said she made a mistake and she doesn't know how to fix it. Can you help?”

Swag rubbed the back of his neck.

“I'm...not sure this time, kiddo. I might make it worse.”

Her expression said that she didn't believe that for a second. The unwavering faith of a child. He'd had that once too. He hoped she would be able to keep it longer than he had.

It looked like he had to try.

Maddie held her hands in the air, and Swag scooped her up into his arms without really thinking about it. He looked out over Helixs hand built garden home, with its improbable, Escheresque landscapes, and soaring, vaulted glass sky. He had only been here a few times, and never very deep into the gardens, but he knew that space was warped and folded in unexpected ways; recursive paths and nested areas that one could easily get lost in forever.

He had never built a more perfectly horrifying maze. Here, if he lost his way, there was enough food and water that he could wander for the rest of his life, slowly losing hope, descending into madness. Surrounded by Eden, yet utterly, helplessly trapped.

It was frightening. She was frightening. All of this and everything about it was terrifying. It was.

And so was he. And so was Unswag, and everything he represented. And so was Arkham's undying bloodthirst, the direction Narci was taking, Puzzles' new lease on life, Nash's growing involvement with literal demons. The things YJ had almost gotten involved in, the disease that had nearly taken Detective. This whole big tightly tangled Nexus. Knowledge of the multiverse itself.

It was all an ever-expanding cosmic dread, bearing down on all their shoulders, and they each had to figure out how to handle it, because it wasn't going away.

He could look at Helix as a representative of that dread, or he could see her as yet another person upon whose shoulders that weight rested. See her as an alien being, like the Grays, or as a familiar woman whose warmth he had tasted. He could destroy a good thing, like he always did, or he could finally cherish what he actually had.

This could be his last chance.

Madeline guided him along the color-coded pebble paths, a labyrinth perhaps only she and her mother truly knew by heart. Greenery, flowers, and fruits burst joyfully on every side. An artificial stream meandered through the young trees and under small bridges. Little waterfalls trickled, and fish flashed in the water. Here and there stood a carved log, stacked rocks, suncatchers, and circles of standing stones.

Birds chirped and flitted about, Every now and then he saw a chicken, heard the braying of a goat somewhere.

Over the top of it all, a song floated like perfume on the breeze, a pair of voices entwined in haunting harmonies. One of them was Helix, naturally, of course she could sing. That was practically required of a sorceress, wasn't it?

That meant that the other voice had to be Narci, didn't it? Swag would never have guessed the kid could hold a tune, much less that his reedy, wavering voice could produce such enchanting sounds.

Maddie, cradled securely at shoulder level, loosed her own voice into the air. A string of notes akin to the birdsong, that particular pitch that only children could achieve fitted into the music with improvised ease.

Song swam through his mind. It was a compulsion, to add his voice, add himself in. To become part of the music, complete it.

He could not find the notes.

He was led to a clearing, a community center of sorts. This was a place Swag had been before. Under a tall arbor of blooming vines, tables and chairs, set up for a meal. Narci, his black curls crowned with flowers, Helix in her frilly apron, setting out the dishes. The song dying on both their lips as they noticed him approach.

Narci scowled, but Helix just gazed back at him, her expression apprehensive. Her hand was still bandaged. Narci had said that no medicine had worked on the injury.

Words clogged his throat, each one begging to be said, but reluctant to be the first.

Madeline squealed happily at the sight of the meal, and Swag put her down. She rushed over to Narci, who swept her up and sat her into her bright purple booster chair.

Swag swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Starlight...” he managed.

“I'll set another place at the table.” Helix said.

artists: @captainbaddecisions​ @miasmacaron​ @cardwrecks​

[realityhelixcreates]

Boarded Up Paradise pt 5

Nash decides to take care of a problem.

Warning: Nash is still underage and some sexual-ish things do happen in this fic. Certain non-consensual actions are implied here and there.

Song: The Floor is Lava-Epic Mountain Music

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions @whocares-idont

As the weeks ticked by, Nash built up his 'savings', sought out little foxholes to hide in and create his traps, and settled into the weird domesticity of living with a demon. Lust was quickly becoming a stable presence in his life, which made sense considering Nash had previously lived such a transient lifestyle, and never spoke anyone more than a few days in a row. Yet Lust was there almost all the time, and always told Nash if he would be gone. He cooked for Nash, even though Nash could never eat much, and often took his leftovers to Mons. He continued reading the demonology books, and Lust continued to take an interest in his schooling and especially his extracurricular activities.

Sometimes the two collided; there was a school resource officer who had been giving Nash trouble lately, and Nash had been building a trap especially for him. Nash knew he wouldn't pass the test, just as Nash knew he would not be missed. He wasn't the only kid on the officer's harassment list, and Nash felt certain that the other students would keep their mouths shut, even if they suspected him. By his calculations, their hatred for him was not as strong as their hatred for authority with a gun.

He had continued to play on his teacher's pity for his new orphaned status, and had even gained a few points with the principal, just for acting like a pathetic, lost little kid. That would be fewer detentions, as long as he kept the ruse up.

People were beginning to notice him more, though he didn't know why. He hadn't changed the way he dressed or acted, and he wasn't sure that his fellow students were looking out for him more because he'd lost his father, or if it was some other change. One girl had even told him he smelled nice. Why would she even say that? He wasn't even wearing any cologne or lotion, or anything!

He'd stolen some lotion from a corner store on the way home that afternoon.

All of these things delighted Lust, who wanted to know what he thought of the girl (nothing), what he got so many detentions for (speaking, mostly), and what kind of traps Nash made.

So he gave Lust one of his special Rubic's Cubes.

They were piecemeal contraptions, taken apart and recombined with sensors and taser parts, a little crude, but he was always improving.

“If you don't make any moves in within a certain time, it zaps you. If you try to tamper with the stickers, the sensors will pick it up and zap you. If you don't finish a row in a certain time, it zaps you. And the zaps get worse the longer it goes. I have a remote that I can use to control them, so I can make it worse if I want to, and start or pause the timer. I can also make them overload and self destruct.”

Lust plucked the little cube up in his long claws.

“~So it is a portable puzzle~”

“It's a toy.” Nash said. “They've been around since long before I was born; basically everybody knows what they are and what you're supposed to do with them. I've just improved that one so that it's more of a challenge.”

“~And you can solve it~”

“Of course!” he took the cube back from the demons claws. “Let me show you.”

Nash poked a button on his remote 'just to keep it fair', then his hands flew along the cube, a rainbow of spinning colors that swiftly resolved themselves into solid faces. He set the finished cube down well before the first electric pulse, and tapped the remote again.

“~That...was quite swift. So it is a color matching puzzle. I see. I think I could do that~” Lust mused.

“Go ahead and try.” Nash challenged, remixing the colors. Lust delicately took the cube and waited for Nash to start the timer. His deft movements were not fast enough, and Nash grinned as the demon yelped, nearly dropping the cube at the first zap.

“Not as easy as I make it look, is it?” Nash teased.

“~I merely need to get an initial grasp on where the colors are-ouch! Why~”

“No movement for too long. Gotta keep going.”

Lust continued, absorbing the increasing electrical charges, but not without complaint.

“~Ouch! Where is the last blue? Ow! I thought it was over here, why is it over there? Ouch! Why is this side solid, but this one mixed? How did that even happ-oww~”

Lust dropped the cube from stinging fingers, scowling at Nash's smug giggle.

“~Perhaps I am a touch rusty~” Lust admitted imperiously. “~Lofty Hellish plans tend towards greatercomplexity, after all~”

“Uh-huh. You got beat by human ingenuity, own up.”

“~So this is what you plan to do to your cowardly officer~” Lust asked.

“Maybe. I'm gathering info on the guy to see what the most fitting plan would be. I want him to really feel his inadequacy. He wouldn't be a school cop if he was actually worth anything. When all you're good for is bullying kids, you know there's either something nasty or utterly pathetic in your past. I'm gonna dig it up and rub his face in it.”

Tampering with evidence, petty theft, wrongful arrest, and soliciting sexual favors from a suspect in custody. Nash had been right: it was pathetic. The kind of shallow evils that apparently made someone the perfect authority for kids. Surely, nothing could go wrong there.

No, this one would definitely not be missed.

The police force had really been going through it these past couple of years. First the old commissioner had been indicted under massive corruption charges. Then' he'd put out a hit on the DA and the judge looking over his case. The DA survived, but had been horribly scarred, both inside and outside. A new name began trickling down the ranks of Gotham's organized crime rings. Even Nash, currently the pettiest of criminals had heard.

Two-Face was a damn stupid thing to call yourself, but Nash would bet all the bodies being dredged out of the harbor hadn't been laughing in the end. Especially not the old police commissioner.

The new one reminded Nash a bit of Mr. Rodgers in a kevlar jacket. He had all the seeming of a kindly old grandpa, but had dodged assassination attempts, ousted prominent cops who were also under investigation for corruption, and was even rumored to be working with Gotham's own urban legend: The Bat himself.

A lot of people thought the Bat really was just a legend; a huge bat that lived somewhere in the bristling, stony rooftops of Gotham. Nash knew though: Nash had seen him. Once. He was a man. Just a man in a costume, who had practically flown high over Nash's head, and away into the dark. It had given him an idea.

He also had the advantage of knowing that the Bat existed on other worlds, and could be outwitted, if necessary. Arkham still fought him regularly. Nash didn't really want to fight him though; he agreed with what the Bat was doing. He agreed with vengeance. He would join in soon.

His Riddler persona didn't need to be an enemy. The Bat could patrol the skies, and he could take the underground, make it into something productive.

And if they ever did end up on opposing sides, well, Nash had the combined experience of six other Riddlers behind him.

“~Vigilantes do tend to be romanticized, don't they~” Lust mused over it. “~There's a definite sexappeal in the mystery, the apparent altruism, the fantasy of justice~”

“I don't really care about that.” Nash said. “I'm just tired of it. Things need to change, and they aren't gonna change unless someone does it.”

“~Perhaps. Many were the hopes of those who beheaded the king. What happens if the next one is the same~”

Nash shrugged.

“He's got a neck too.”

“~Ah. Bloodlusssst~”

The sensuous hiss that escaped the demon sent goosebumps shivering across Nash's skin. Lust glided closer, looming over him until Nash bent backwards against the kitchen table. The scent of ozone and rose intensified around him, and Nash found himself swimming in it, floating in the hypnotic ocean of Lust's eyes. Anxiousness strangled him, left him short of breath. Lust both braced and unbalanced him, long arms blocking in both sides of his trembling shoulders.

“~Why, Eddie...you're salivating. Is that what drives you? Is that where your hunger lies~”

“I-I-” Roses on the demon's breath, so close he could see the hidden fangs. “P-please...”

“~Yessss~” Lust's deep voice neared a whisper.

“M-move back...”

The huge blue eyes dimmed with the demon's startled blink.

“~Ah, yes. Of course. Well, that form of lust isn't solely under my jurisdiction anyway~” he grumbled.

Nash relaxed as the demon moved away. Apprehension swirled in him, and something else. What would have happened if he just hadn't said anything? What was he willing to allow? Lust seemed to listen to him, more than their pact really demanded. All Lust really needed to do was not hurt him. He didn't need to feed Nash, or keep him company, or teach him things about Hell and beyond. Hostless, the demon was also alone in the world. Was he lonely too, or just an opportunist?

Why did Nash like it so much? His body reacted to Lusts teasing, but wasn't it supposed to? Could Lust tell when it happened? The demon never said anything about it, which was good, because Nash didn't know how to feel about it. He kept telling himself that it was because he was a teenager, and didn't have control over it. That Lust's presence was supposed to affect people like that. But what if it wasn't just that?

Nash wasn't very concerned about sexual orientation. Detective, Puzzles, and Swag had been effective roll models, and Nash had decided that it really wasn't that big a deal if he was gay. The only reason he'd been afraid of that in the first place was his father, and that was no longer an issue. It was very, extremely clear that Lust didn't care either, and why would he? It would all be food to him.

“Sorry, what?” Nash asked. Lust had been speaking.

“~I said that somethings are too complicated to be assigned to just one of us~” Lust repeated, tilting his head to look suspiciously at Nash. “~I cross lines often enough with both Gluttony and Love, and sometimes even Wrath and Trust, that things sometimes blur together. Why Eddie, it's unlike you to be so distracted~”

Nash scowled. Lust did like teasing him.

Narci seemed surprised to find Nash on his doorstep, but quickly ushered him inside.

“Are you free of that thing now?” he asked, concern in his airy voice. “I was talking to Arkham, and-”

“Really?” Nash said, skeptical. Narci's pale ears flushed.

“Well, I was talking to Puzzles, who talks to Arkham, and we were trying to figure out how to maybe banish-”

“Don't bother. I'm fine. I told him not to mess with you anymore, and besides, I don't want him gone. I like him.”

Narci stared at him.

“Nash, it's a monster!” Narci insisted. “It's going to hurt you!”

“No, no.” Nash waved his hands in front of him. “We have a pact, I'm safe. You don't have to worry.”

“It's a liar.” Narci shot back heatedly. “You can't believe anything it says! It just wants to take advantage of you. It'll swallow you if we don't drive it off. You can stay here with me while we figure out how. It's a demon, right? So, salt. Lots and lots of salt. I think it's...gold and amethyst that drive off evil spirits? I think I read that somewhere. I can get some of that easy, I might already have it, actually.”

He retrieved a box and began spinning through the complicated puzzle lock. He flubbed once, swearing in irritation at the needle that pierced his thumb upon his mistake, grabbing ad slurping down a vial of something from a nearby rack of what looked to Nash like fancy toiletries, and continuing on until the box cracked open.

It was full of beautiful jewelry, which sparkled in a dozen flashing colors as Narci rummaged about within, turning over loose stones and finished pieces alike, until he fished out a thick gold band topped with a shimmering purple stone the size of a penny.

“There! That oughta do it.” He handed it over to Nash.

“You don't actually believe this'll work, do you?” Nash asked.

“It's a start.” Narci said. “We can't let that thing have you.”

Nash handed the ring back. “Maybe you should wear it, if you're that scared.”

Narci grimaced and pushed the ring back into Nash's hands.

“I'm not scared!” he insisted. “I'm worried about you! That thing showed me awful visions. Awful lies. It's planning something for you, I know it.”

“Narci, they were just fantasies. That's what he does. Shows you something you want-”

“No! It's all lies! I'm not like that!” Narci struggled to regain control of himself. “Anyway, you keep that on. Just in case.”

“If you insist.” Nash said, pocketing the ring. It was a bit large for his hand. I actually wanted your help for something.”

He laid out his plan for the school officer, the why, the where, and the what.

“But I think I'll need help getting him there.” he finished. “It's not like I can dump him in a wheelbarrow and cart him around Gotham, you know.”

Narci smiled his cherubic smile.

“I think I might know a guy.”

[realityhelixcreates]

Shards of the Nexus: Fragments pt 2

Another handful of drabbles and character moments, and perhaps a more important event that I couldn't really fit in anywhere else.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

Ed kept his knife pointed at the two men before him. Arkham cursed softly, sucking at his fingers, where Ed had cut the gun from his hand. Ed had the gun now, though he only held it at his side. He didn't know how to use it.

It was enough though, that he had it and Arkham didn't. Both men, Arkham and the...the...the weird one held still, clearly surprised to see him.

“I found you.” Ed declared. “I solved your riddle, and I found you.”

“It took you damn long enough.” Arkham drawled.

“I still did it. I did what you wanted me to. And within the time limit you gave too. Acknowledge it.”

Arkham rolled his eyes.

“Narcissistic little twerp. What, do you want a medal? For just doing what you were told? You want a little head pat, someone to call you a good boy?” he sneered.

Conflicting feelings burned in him; elation and embarrassment. Rage. He raised the knife, body tensed for a lunge-

Arkham was smiling.

Ed hesitated.

“You.” he growled, pointing the knife at Arkham once again. “You're just trying to get under my skin so I lose my temper and do something rash.”

“Yeah. I am.” Arkham shrugged. “It seems pretty easy.”

The other Riddler had been slowly moving while he taunted Ed, shielding the other one's body with his own.

“Why are you protecting that...” Ed paused. Selina had said...she'd given him a long, excruciating lecture intertwined with a threat: get with the times, or get out of her sight. Selina worked with all kinds, and if he wanted to continue availing himself of her services, he could not be a danger to her subordinates. He could not afford to lose Selina right now. “I mean, protecting...hiiiiim?”

“Them.” Arkham corrected.

“Detective.” the Detective clarified.

“Why? Are you together?” Ed demanded.

“What's it to ya?” Arkham mocked. “Got a little crush?”

Anger and fear flushed him again, and though he knew his face was turning red, he stayed in place. He wouldn't rise to it this time.

“We're friends.” Detective said, and Ed scoffed.

“People like us don't have friends.” he asserted.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Arkham said. “But we do have allies.”

The barrel of a handgun pressed into his black curls. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see brilliant green and purple, so bright they clashed. Movement from his other side, colors more subdued, but green and purple nonetheless. This other wore shaggy sideburns and held some kind of capsule in his hand, its top opened, twin prongs protruding from the base. A taser?

Surrounded. Ed kept still.

“And how much poorer are you for not having any?” Arkham grinned.

“Feel free to drop those weapons any old time.” the holder of the gun said, his voice deep and acidic.

“But I did it.” he murmured. “I did it. I figured it out on my own.”

The gun-holder sniffed, unimpressed.

“It took you seven months.” Arkham pointed out.

“Don't you try to tell me it's easy! Moving across realities? Without any instructions? No way that's easy!”

“It isn't.” Detective said, taking control of the conversation. “It is actually quite challenging. The paths are often in unexpected places, and sometimes certain requirements must be met.”

“There, you see!” Ed said, gesturing at the Detective. “Thank you-ow!”

The gun-holder had suddenly pressed the barrel very hard against his head, and the furry-cheeked one moved up on him quickly.

“Please put that away.” he said. Oh right. Ed was still holding his knife. He slowly slid it into its sheath, strapped to his thigh, and carefully set Arkham's gun on the ground. The furry-cheeked one deliberately closed his taser capsule in response, and replaced it on his belt.

Ed turned his head to properly look at the man who still held a gun on him.

He didn't look much older than Ed, dark hair and surprisingly green eyes. His gun didn't waver.

“Well?” Ed demanded.

The man looked down his nose at him.

“No ultimatum has been given to me.” the young man stated.

“Puzzles.” the Detective said quietly.

“He's still technically armed.” the young man, Puzzles, complained.

“And there are four of us here.”

“How many of us are there?” Ed asked, looking away from Puzzles.

“Well,” Detective said, “If you're ready, that's something we can find out together.”

?~?~?~?~?

Helix peeked around, searching for signs of life, a bottle of her seasonal cider in hand.

“He's not here.” Unswag said, drawing a worried glance from her. “He's on one of his getaways.”

“Oh.” she said, and her disappointment stung him. “Where? Maybe I can-”

“No.” Unswag shook his head. “I meant it when I said 'getaway'. He wants to be gone for a little while. You understand.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” she sighed. “Wish he'd told me.”

“He never does. It'll be a week or two, and he'll waltz back in like nothing ever happened.”

“Something I did?”

“Yes.” he admitted. “But also no. Just existing is enough.”

The way she 'just existed' specifically. The way she invaded homes and privacy. The way she was just there sometimes, uninvited. As if she belonged there. As if she lived there. As if she were permanent.

Swag didn't know how to handle it. He didn't know either, but he was much less able to run like Swag did. There had never been permanence in their lives, not family, not home, not identity, nothing. And then this cosmic horror from beyond the stars had smashed her way into their world and their lives...and had decided to love them. Had decided to stay. Lashed herself to her human meat and the emotions and sensations that kept her mortal, just so she could be with all of them.

How was he supposed to handle that?

He sometimes mocked his counterpart for his cowardice. For refusing to be as assertive as he ought to be. But Unswag was no different, was he?

“I'm still here though.” he said impulsively. Swag wasn't here to watch. He would be alone with her. A chilling yet exciting prospect.

Helix found a seat for herself in response, and he curled his long stick legs into the chair next to her.

They shared the cider and a crossword between them.

?~?~?~?~?

Narci watched YJ through the screen as he hovered over the ticking bomb. The older Riddler was carefully disassembling it in a different room, but Narci was watching and providing instructions.

He watched YJ's little shears hover over the twin wires connecting the timer to the explosive.

“Okay.” Narci said. “We've got a red wire and a...brown wire? Weird, isn't it usually blue?”

“Tailor made just for me.” YJ muttered darkly. “Well, which one is it?”

“Cut the red one.” Narci answered.

The shears moved from one wire to the other, hesitating. Why was he doing that? They were running low on time.

“Er...which one?”

“The red one.” Narci repeated. YJ swiped a hand over his face. He'd lost his glasses in a previous section of the maze, but that hadn't slowed him down that Narci could see. The shears moved back and forth.

“Red!” Narci snapped. The time was ticking down.

“Which one is it!” YJ snapped back.

“The fucking red one!”

“Narci, I can't see red! Right or left!” YJ cried. Seconds left.

“What? What do you mean-Left! It's left!”

“Too late.” Arkham chimed in over the intercom. “YJ, you're dead. Narci, you let your partner die. Welcome to failure, boys.”

“Goddamnit!” YJ cursed.

“What do you mean, you can't see red?” Narci demanded, frustration and disappointment wrestling in his chest.

“It means he's colorblind, you little idiot!” Puzzles shouted into the intercom. “We told you that before we started! Didn't you read the file?”

“Yes!” Narci shouted back. “I memorized it! It didn't say anything about being colorblind!”

“Protanomaly! Do you know what words mean?”

“Isn't that about him being nearsighted?”

“No, my eyes are fine otherwise.” YJ sighed.

“You've got a phone, why didn't you look it up?” Puzzles persisted, the acid in his voice conveyed perfectly over the crackling intercom speakers. Narci hadn't wanted to admit that he hadn't known the word, but now that he typed it in...

Wow. Really no red. That was kinda sad, it was such a nice color.

“Well why was he sent in there to do this if he's disabled?” Narci demanded.

“Oh, no you don't.” Arkham said, reclaiming control of the intercom. “You are the one who failed to prepare. You were given all of the information you needed in order to succeed, and you did not utilize it. You will not blame your partner for your failure. He was counting on you, and you are the one who failed him.”

“But shouldn't it have been the other way around?” Narci protested past the stinging words. “I should have been the one to go in! I can see everything! I could have gotten through those traps much more easily!”

“And that is why you were to be support.” the Detective's musical voice replaced Arkham, and Narci cringed. He hated letting anyone see him fail, but the elegant older Riddler most of all. “Your physical capabilities are not in question. YJ's are. YJ's ability to work with others has already been proven. However, you clearly need practice in teamwork. That is what this is exercise is about. Not showing off what you do best, but working on what you do worst.”

Narci bit down on his response. He hadn't talked back to the Detective since that first time. He-they-were too important. They were the most important.

And they were right. Narci did not work well with others. That wasn't what he had been trained for. Even now, he couldn't seem to stop seeing these 'brothers' as rivals. To chafe under the label of 'youngest' and least attested.

“Step out of the booth Narci, it's Puzzles turn.” Arkham said. “Get ready to go into the maze, if you're so sure you can make it. I'm shuffling the traps, so you'd better hope Puzzles is better support than you were.”

[realityhelixcreates]

Boarded Up Paradise pt. 3

Compromise is difficult when you're talking to a demon.

Song: Number of the Beast-Iron Maiden

Warning: Nash is still underage and some sexual-ish things do happen in this fic. Certain non-consensual actions are implied here and there.

“~Are you hungry, Eddie~” Lust asked when he came home that evening. “~I've learned how to cook from several of my Hosts. Love's and Gluttony's too~”

“Love? Love exists? Like you do, I mean.”

“~Oh yes. And Justice, Faith, Fortitude, all of them and more~”

“And you're friends?”

“~Some of them, to various degrees. Love and I are close~”

“Really?” Nash asked, stowing his take of the cash in an abandoned picture frame. He would have enough to last a while, if he were frugal. “I thought you'd be enemies.”

The demon's expression became pitying. Normally, Nash would have hated that, but coming from a monster...it somehow felt more honest.

“~Oh dear little Eddie~” he said. “~Love and I are twins. We can exist, one without the other, but we are often found together, and have been from the beginning. No, Chastity is my opposite, and Temperance my enemy. Even so, we rarely fight directly. It's just not my style~”

“Oh. Uh, I guess I'm a little hungry. Not too much though. Do you eat? Human food, I mean?”

“~Certainly~” Lust said, hunting down a box of mac and cheese. There was a surprising amount of non-perishable food in the house, and Nash wasn't quite sure how it had gotten there. It wasn't as if Lust could go out shopping! Perhaps some of his previous meals had brought it with them. “~It is something that many people derive pleasure from. So I too, enjoy it~”

Was that how it worked? Everybody focused on the sexual aspect of lust as a concept, but if this being was somehow connected to every form of pleasure...Maybe he was a lot more multifaceted than Nash had initially thought.

“~Do you like anything in it~” Lust asked. “~One of my Hosts liked salsa in hers. How about you~”

“Plain.” Nash said. His mom had never put anything else in it, and it seemed like a waste since he was only going to eat a little bit. “How many Hosts have you had?”

“~Oh, many, many. From long ago until now. They are all my very dearest~”

“You care about them? I didn't know demons could care about people.”

“~Ah, and how much do you know about demons, little Eddie? I know there are people who study us extensively. Are you an occultist? Do they even teach that in your modern schools~” Lust scooped up a bowl of mac and cheese, setting it down in front of him.

“N-no. I guess not. I used to go to church, a long time ago. They just said demons were liars, tempters, and tricksters.” Nash took a small bite and remembered home. Those years when his mother cooked for him, and took him to Sunday school, where they told the gentler bible stories, filed the harsh edges off of war crimes and slavery, and skipped most mentions of the Devil and other demons. They spoke of love and forgiveness, but never of lust and wrath.

“~Oh, we are. But that's not all we are. How could something exist for so long, and never evolve? No, no, I care deeply about those I choose to. My proximity to Love does make it easier for me, and mostdemons do keep it secret, or show it in ways that are hard to recognize, but the possibility is alwaysthere~”

Lust sat across from him with his own food, somehow balancing his fork skillfully in his too-long fingers.

“So is that some kind of job you can have? An occultist? The study of demons?”

“~Among other things. I think it's more of a hobby now. I'm told it is more difficult to make money off of intellect unless you are in certain...oh, what did she call it? Plant? No, STEM studies~”

“Hmph, don't I know it.” Nash grumbled. “Who is 'she'?”

“~My last host~”

“Oh. What happened to her?”

Lusts intense gaze slipped from Nash and found the table.

“~A disease. It happened so quickly. I've lost many to sickness, but in this modern age...I thought perhaps that wouldn't happen anymore~”

“Oh...Geez, I'm sorry.” To see a demon mourn was so deeply strange. It was becoming easy to forget that Lust wasn't human, even as he sat across from Nash in a body made of smoke and lightning.

“~She is still with me, in a way. They all are. I mourn losing the ability to connect with them so intimately, but they will still always be with me~”

“That...sounds nice.” It kind of did. Never being abandoned, always having the care of something grand, and every lifetime or so, you got a new friend.

Lust smiled softly.

“~Many would disagree. But from those who get the chance to know, I've had few complaints~”

Nash went to bed having only eaten a few bites of his meal. He had other things to digest.

The librarian stared down at him, unimpressed.

“It's, uh, for a project.” he tried. “Um, for my history class.”

She looked back to the list he'd given her, full of occult books.

“We don't have any of these.” she said simply. “If we tried carrying these, I guarantee, we'd have parents calling us up all day and night, convinced we were running a satanic cult in tunnels under the school or something.”

At the mention of parents, her face softened, and Nash took advantage of it immediately, letting himself droop in disappointment.

“I just wanted to get a good grade.” he said sadly. “And I think about the...like, the nature of the afterlife a lot nowadays, you know?”

She wore her thoughts like a billboard across her eyes. Poor kid's lost everything. He knew the librarian didn't like him; he asked too many questions, made too much work for her. She might have even gotten in trouble a few times when he'd been caught hiding away in the library after school hours too often. But she had the weakness of pity sewn into her, and he would use it, and she would let him.

“But...if you fill out this form, I might be able to get them in through an interlibrary loan.” she suggested, sliding a paper over the counter at him. “I can't promise all of them, but I might find a few.”

“Any would be great.” Nash said, quickly filling out the form. He'd have to get back to class soon, and after that, well he knew how to pirate PDFs. It would be a poor excuse for a Riddler who didn't have multiple ways of gathering information.

He came 'home' to find Narci pinned against the living room wall.

His closest brother strained against the ephemeral power of many inky tentacles, grimacing as Lust whispered almost silently in his ear. Sweat gathered on his forehead, red spreading across his pale face. Nash heard him whimper.

“Lust!” Nash shouted. “That's my brother, let go of him!”

He rushed at the demon, grasping at the insubstantial tendrils. Startled, Lust convulsed, the mass of shadow retreating from Narci's trembling body. The other boy collapsed.

Nash shoved past him to reach Narci.

“Are you okay?” he cried. “Tell me you're okay!”

Narci, on his hands and knees, shook his head. Not okay.

“~I have not harmed him~” Lust said. “~You know him? I thought he was simply following my lure~”

“No, he was following me!” Nash said. “He always finds me. It's okay Narci.”

“~Hmm. His desires are so mundane. Do not let the false shame of this world deter you, young man. It's perfectly normal to want-”

Narci shrieked, his high voice shrill as a hawk, and he leapt at Lust, driving his knife into the demons chest.

Nash shouted. Lust glanced down at the blade embedded in his swirling clouds, then back at Narci.

“~Well~” he said, showing long, hidden fangs. “~It was a spirited try~”

Lust flung Narci back as if he weighed nothing, denting the drywall. Narci toppled, yanked himself back to his feet and lunged again.

“Nash run!” he screamed. “I'll hold it off!”

Lust filled the room, his body dissolving away into thick shadows that swallowed them both.

Whispers slid Nash's mind, promises of pleasure, of freedom, of the safety to indulge in the most secret, most obscene, most treasured desires. It drew out his curiosity about what was possible, what was allowed, what it was that he really wanted, and the answers that began to form troubled him.

Somewhere in the dark Narci howled denial.

“Lust, please!” Nash cried. “You're hurting us!”

The shadows retreated, taking the whispers with him, leaving both boys shaking and exposed in the watery gloaming from the edges of the boarded up windows.

Nash crawled to Narci, who was curled up and crying.

“~Did that hurt~” Lust asked, confused. “~It was not meant to cause any physical damage~”

“It was frightening.” Nash said. “Please don't do that.”

Lust hesitated.

“~I promised no safety to him~” he protested.

“He's my brother. Leave him alone.” Nash grabbed his phone. “Do you want me to call somebody else?”

He'd burn another bridge for Narci's sake. Without hesitation.

Narci shoved him away. His eyes frightened Nash, but all he did was run. Lust let him pass, Nash wincing at the sound of the backdoor slamming.

“Now see what you did?” Nash accused.

“~What I did~” Lust exclaimed. “~He came into my home, attacked me, and ran~”

“Don't you try that!” Nash shouted. “You hurt him! He was crying! You can't just eat my friends! Even Mons doesn't do that!”

“~This new strain of insolence is not endearing on you, little Eddie~” Lust grumbled darkly. “~His personal issues are not my fault. However...if it truly means so much to you...Perhaps I can simply ask first~”

Nash frowned, crossing his arms.

“~Ohhh, you think you have control here? I have made concessions for you, but I am the anthropomorphized portion of a deity in this room, so perhaps you should rethink your attitude~”

That phrase, the accusation of 'attitude' so often thrown at him right before something horrible happened, ripped through him and poured adrenaline into his blood. Legs tensed, ready to dash away like he always tried to do, ready to hide, ready to-

-explode into anger like never before. His father was dead, and no one else would ever be allowed to treat him like that!

Nash snatched a forgotten glass off a dusty coffee table and threw it at the demon.

“Shut up!” he shouted. “You don't tell me what to do! You don't talk to me like that! You're not my father, you're not anything! You think you're so tough, then why are you starving in a brokeass old house by yourself? Huh? Why you so small and weak? Why you gotta suck off of humans like a parasite? You ain't a god, you're a leech!”

Lust rushed him, fangs bright as lightning in the dimness, right up on him, tendrils pointed and poised to strike-

And stopped, centimeters from Nash's face.

Nash had screamed, expecting dozens of stabbing wounds, but...nothing. He snapped his mouth shut. Lust didn't look angry, he looked...pained? The fangs were gone, the tendrils softened, carefully caressing him, instead of rending his flesh.

“~Ohhh no, no~” Lust moaned softly. “~No, I won't hurt you. Never you. Dear little Eddie, I gave my word. And my word has power, that even I cannot break. I'm so sorry to have frightened you. I will ignore your friends. My hunger is making me impolite, but I will simply go hungry tonight~”

The back door slammed back open, and both Nash and Lust froze.

“Who's in here?” someone demanded, loud and aggressive. “This is the police!”

“~Or perhaps not~” Lust whispered.

This time Nash stayed to watch.

[realityhelixcreates]

Shards of the Nexus: A Handful of Fragments

Several short bits of dialogue and character moments that I couldn't really fit into other stories. First of an ongoing drabble collection.

Gen, with a hinting of YJ/Bruce relationship. Narci is working on his language, but still sometimes uses words we might find inappropriate.

“I bet it's because you're black.” Narci said suddenly. “The way your teachers treat you. I saw it happen a lot in the training center. We had loads of black students, and yeah, they weren't as good as me, but they weren't bad either. They were just ignored more than everyone else. They could have done just fine otherwise.”

“Then they would have been your rivals.” Nash pointed out. “Isn't it better for you that they got left behind?”

“No way, even at their best, they would have never have been my rivals. No one was. They would have been good, great even, but not my equal. I was never worried about that.”

“Huh. Well that's good for you. But I'm not black.”

Narci regarded Nash carefully, taking in his details again.

“You're not?”

“Nah. My gramma was, but no one else.”

“Oh. Mulatto then.”

Nash seared him with a judgmental stare.

“Aren't you too smart for words like that?”

“Ah-sorry!” Narci fumbled. “I thought that was the polite term.”

“The polite term would be not giving a shit. It doesn't matter anyway. Does it?”

“N-no...”

“People might try to make it matter, but it doesn't.” Nash looked away. “But you might be right. About my teachers, I mean. I might just have to...test them on that. Might need a little help with getting them all to the right place though.”

Narci's embarrassment evaporated under his angelic grin.

“Oh, you bet!”

?~?~?~?~?

Helix held the lump of protoplasmic gray in her lap as they just watched, and waited. This is what they had agreed upon. This is what they had decided.

It shifted under his sky blue gaze, the thin, anxious line of this mouth. Slowly, it's formless body took shape. From primordial dough protruded an arm, a leg. Constriction near the top brought a head and neck into being. Tiny fingers burst from flattening palms, uneven tubes wriggling, solidifying into proper, jointed shapes.

It struggled with its bones, jerking and twisting them into place, but it began to falter, as if tiring.

“Come on now.” he said quietly. “Pull on through.”

“You can do it.” she murmured.

Together they encouraged the quickening creature, as it faced the first battle of every living thing; the fight to be born.

A rosy flush blossomed across newly formed skin, gray melting away into pale pink. Orange hair sprouted like moss, petal-like ears unfolding.

At the last arose the thing that would forever cut it off from what it was meant to be, and set it on it's new path: a face, the grooves of eyes and mouth splitting, deepening, opening up in incomprehension for the world it found itself in. It had a jaw, teeth, a nose, eyebrows, all things none of it's original kind ever had.

Helix held the almost fully formed being out to him.

“Quick, you have to name it!” she said.

He took it in his arms and gazed carefully down as the last details came into place.

“Madeline.” he said. “Your name is Madeline.”

The now-child rearranged herself for the last time, fully and permanently a part of their world.

?~?~?~?~?

“-and it got caught in the door behind him! Nearly jerked him right off his feet.” Arkham said, and Detective laughed. “Next time I saw him, he had tear away zones built into it, but I'll never forget the dumbfounded look on his face. He knows I saw him too. He doesn't get to live that down.”

“I know why he wears a cape, and he does use it well, but it really is a weak point, isn't it? And they're all like that! Whatever is he teaching those children?”

“Ever grab a Robin by his cape and smack him into something?” Arkham asked.

“I should say not. Robin was a strapping young lad by the time I met him. Certainly not the sort I could just swing about.” Detective poured Arkham another cup of coffee. He sipped with an appreciative nod. “Well, the first one, anyway. And by the time the second and third rolled around, I had stepped away from physical engagements with vigilantes. Simply wasn't my forte. And the thought of violently putting my hands on a child didn't really sit well with me.”

Arkham shrugged.

“If they attack you, you defend yourself.” he said simply. “It's a valuable lesson, and each one of those brats needed to learn it in turn. If they wanted to survive, that is.”

“Fair.” Detective said.” Batgirl, however...”

“Hopeless.” Arkham declared.

“Enthusiastic.” Detective rejoined. “But perhaps a bit too focused on aesthetics over training. At least the cape is short?”

“On your world maybe.” Arkham scoffed. “You've got the redhead, right? Yeah, we had her too, for a little while. Things went poorly for her, I hear. Now I've got to deal with a silent stalker in a gimp suit, and she wears a long cape.”

“Ever grab her cape?”

“Not once.” Arkham said. “I'm pretty sure she will actually just kill me. I respect that, so I don't play games with her. Her 'brothers' could learn a thing or two from her, but they won't.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Detective mused. “They aren't entirely brainless after all.”

“Just close to it, if they keep wearing the damn capes.”

?~?~?~?~?

“Hey Eddie?” Bruce asked. “Can you tell me what I'm like on other worlds?”

YJ leaned against his boyfriends shoulder, glanced up towards his face.

“Not much different than here, honestly.” he said. “Everywhere I go, you're an obnoxious rich boy.”

“Heaping praise, thank you so much.”

“Well I've never actually met another you. I just know about them because they're all also super rich and prominent figures in their own Gothams. Universally philanthropic, throw huge parties, fund half the city, all the same. You could go meet them yourself, I'm sure they'd all find it entertaining.”

“Eh, I dunno. I don't see how you can stand to spend so much time outside of your own dimension, even to spend time with me. Doesn't it drive you bonkers?”

“Well, first of all, I've never been bonkers. Second of all, what do you mean? Most other worlds aren't all that strange. The city looks different in some of them, yes, but-”

“That's not what I mean.” Bruce cut him off. “I mean the way it feels. You don't feel it? I've only been to a few others, but every time, it really feels like I shouldn't exist there. Like even the sky is rejecting me. It's like there's something wrong with me specifically.”

YJ sat up.

“I've never felt that.” he said. “The worlds are kind of alive. Maybe there a just some people who don't fit well into others.”

“Is there just something different about me?”

YJ thought about it.

“You seem similar...oh. Wait. You're the only one I know of who's family is still alive.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah...all the others lost their parents at a young age. Otherwise, they're the same.”

“Well, thank my lucky stars, I guess. If that's what gets me pushed out of other worlds, I'll take it! Poor other me's. I hope they're all right.”

“Yeah. I wonder what kind of a difference it makes, that you having your family makes the worlds see you differently?”

Bruce shivered.

“I'd rather not think about it.”

?~?~?~?~?