A story high above the low, recorded by few, disputed by later.

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

WHO: EDWARD NYGMA and POSSIBLY YOU.
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: August 8th - August 14th.
WARNINGS: Sweep you all up on a corner and pay for my bread.
SUMMARY: You know that I cannot believe my own truth.
FORMAT: To show what a truth, it's got nothing to lose.



They had taken away his pens. After the fourteenth riddle he had marked over the once-pristine walls, they had informed him that he was acting destructively and could not do with this privilege any longer. Eddie hadn't humored this exceptionally well. If you hadn't intended for me to express myself, he had argued, you wouldn't have encouraged such easily attained access. Whose idea was it to give me the tools anyway? His words were stonewalled, met with incomprehension or disdain. And shortly soon, punishment. Edward Nygma found himself alone, without release, staring at his blackly inked words driven over his walls. A room riddled.

He kept thinking of Norman. How that man was meandering through his life, undisturbed, when he had so abruptly ruined Eddie's own. How unfair it was, how cruel. How much he direly wanted to snip out Norman's vocal chords with a charming pair of symbolically rusty scissors and --

Oh. But that was rather frowned upon, wasn't it?

"Hardly a resonating concern anymore, is it?" Eddie muttered to himself. He had been in the habit of drifting in and out of speech in his solitude. Robbed of an audience and introduced to all kinds of new anti-psychotics (how the market had changed, since his Arkham days), he found himself prone to halfway-audible discussions with his own ears. It was grand company thus far, he wouldn't argue that. His eyes focused on the wall to his left, idly reading his own desperate scrawls.

PARTIAL OBLIGATION
FOLLOWING 01000111
ENDING WITH THE PENULTIMATE IN BEGINNING

Work that had yet been erased by his self-appointed caretakers. He rather liked that one particular riddle, it was rather pivotal. The act itself was soothing, something delving deeper into his past habits. A sort of solace granted in the dark, quiet places of his mind. An old friend. A resolve, an endurance. Truth screaming behind art. Truth. Obsession. Compulsion. This was better, he reasoned, this is how it should be. And that thought was perhaps the thing that Eddie hated the most, the one idea that he couldn't suffer; knowing how Norman Osborn made this realization first.

We may as well talk on equal terms, was what Norman had said to him as they both wore their respective costumes, both soaked in darkness. Equal terms. It was a phrase that stung, as surely Norman knew. When Eddie orchestrated his rival's convoluted downfall, he had done so with the superiority of his moral action. Eddie was right, and if he had to sacrifice a few dozen innocent lives to prove how right he was, so be it. If he had to pay with minimal blood in order to rescue thousands -- maybe even millions -- then it was a price well paid. His method was unconventional, yes, but effective. He was an agent of the greater good, a visionary of the Bigger Picture. He was the hero who had humbled a monster. Equal terms dismantled the idea, mocked it. Weaponized it.

SLAIN WITHOUT THE LEAD
VILE IN CONJUNCTION
WHAT IS THE HERO?

Locked within the painfully pale rooms of the Norman Osborn Hospital of Psychological Evaluation, Edward Nygma then decided that he was done playing games.

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[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

"You didn't even knock," Eddie accused with a whiff of mock-haughtiness. He wasn't in bed, but instead was pacing along the far end of the room, hands behind his back. The low-lit darkness suited his demeanor -- brooding, hostile and ironically self-aware. "What if I was in a compromised position? What then?"

His communicator was discarded, still under his pillow from when he had stashed it (still recording) during Karla's brief visit. It was the only physical weapon he had now, the only tool to use against his environment. The machine with the Ghost outside of it. Eddie smirked to himself, enjoying the idea at play.

"I had figured you for a binary man. That's what I like about you, Ghost, your skill can be depended upon." Eddie walked around his sudden company, coolly surveying Ghost. "And I'm in need of a dependable variable. Would you like to know why?"

[hacktivist]

"--I might turn off my visual feed." But he wouldn't stop recording it. He set down on solid ground, something about Nygma's affect prompting him not to hover, stood hunched forward with the mask tipping this way and that to follow the pacing.

Something was different, here. Whatever had happened to him had--changed him, or perhaps just rearranged him, something just under the surface that he didn't much like but knew better than to ignore. The compliment, though, he didn't seem to quite acknowledge, didn't seem to know how to acknowledge.

"Yes. I would." Circled, he turned to look over his shoulder, the small room seeming smaller, suddenly, and if Ghost hadn't been able to leave at any moment, he was sure he'd find the mild uneasiness harder to suppress.

"Karla isn't working in your best interest?"

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

"She isn't," he drawled. "Quite unladylike in fact, given her previous disposition."

Eddie watched Ghost drift, pleased with his interest in the riddle. He knew the puzzle would appeal to such a mind as Ghost's, he had in fact counted on it. And as long as his visitors took an interest in his riddles -- his confession, his intent -- then Edward was exonerated.

"But that's really tangential to the matter at hand." Eddie cracked his knuckles, as if emphasizing the point. "You see, I need you, Ghost. I need you in a position where you can keep vigilance over Karla Sofen."

He strolled closer, carefully and gently taking steps. His eyes remained on the hovering man.

"I need you to lead the Thunderbolts for me, temporarily."

[hacktivist]

Ghost wasn't a stranger to people making contact, (not that they often did, since he was a stranger to regular bath times), so he didn't shy back as Eddie approached, though it was usually people like Karla and Satana who tried the whole touch-to-make-a-point bit. "Did you make her angry? She can be emotional." Not like that wasn't supervillains 101, he figured he probably knew.

"Heh. What do I get out of it?" It was mostly a joke, a dry and unemotional one; keeping an eye on Karla was something he could do without a moral twinge, she could take care of herself, especially now he'd disabled her nanites. And running the Thunderbolts tactical, at least, he'd done under Osborn once or twice, and he'd done it well. "Why don't you tell me what happened to you?"

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

"I can tell you what happened to me," Eddie began. His eyes were narrowing at Ghost's floating form. "But I won't tell you who happened to me. You understand, it's a very delicate situation."

Eddie took around step around, pacing with a quiet agitation. He was looking ahead, his focused eye matching a carefully carved frown.

"I did nothing to Karla, she was simply proposed with a better offer. You see, the same force behind her had borrowed my company over the past week." At that point, Eddie pointed to his neck. The pink rash, an outline of a collar, still remained. "We had quite the time. Electricity is a little joke between us, you understand. So, being kidnapped and as I'm sure you could figure out, tortured for some days, and the whole time that was merely the preamble."

At this point Eddie shook his head, pausing. He glanced back at Ghost, searching for any sort of reaction.

[hacktivist]

Ghost's head tipped to one side, processing all of that and not pressing about the person who did it. Delicate situation or no, it was more that he was quickly learning Eddie kept the secrets he wanted to keep, and scrabbling against a brick wall wasn't cost-effective.

Eddie's mood and general behavior was suddenly reminding him of how it felt back at the Cube - the knives worn openly, instead of concealed, as they were at the Raft. Attack from any quarter was expected and acknowledged, instead of the self-preservation urge denied, ignored and medicated away.

It was refreshing.

He reached forward with one gloved hand to brush the skin of Eddie's neck, tracing the outline of the irritation as his suit's sensors analyzed the injury and confirmed his words.

Ghost seemed to think it over a second, no hint of pity--nor amusement--in his manner; "You're playing a dangerous game staying here. Even if you can resist their medicinal tampering, Moonstone - and thus her benefactor - has access to you 24/7. A theory: you attempt to hide in plain sight and project false incapacitation."

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

The urge to flinch was overwhelming. Ghost's touch was ethereal, perhaps in part of his visual presence, and Eddie couldn't deny the chill that puckered down his spine.

But he didn't succumb to a flinch.

"I'm aware. But Karla is leashed, and her benefactor will act accordingly to our gentleman's agreement." Edward had no doubt that Norman would continuing playing by the rules of the game -- he had, after all, changed those rules on Eddie. Why not impose one's own upper-hand?

"And I will not humor this idea of mental illness. I am not crazy, I'm not." The passionate words hummed too deeply with emotion. Eddie's ego was at stake, even more so than his life. "That's why I have to stay here, you understand. I have to prove my innocence. I have to bide my time."

[hacktivist]

"An honorable torturer. You don't find many of those." He seemed to sober at the emotion in Eddie's words, "That is your decision. I must advise you that I cannot control Moonstone, only make suggestions to her, and there is only a projected 66.7% likelihood she will listen. --Additionally, that percentage is nearly halved if her benefactor's 'better offer', as you say, surpasses the understanding she and I have."

He didn't fool himself. He knew Moonstone was fiercely independent, and that any appeals to her 'better nature' should be made with a full contextual analysis of the situation, particularly in light of the lack of forced teamwork.

"I can keep an eye on the team while you're inside. That's all I can promise." A holdover from his employed-as-a-normal-guy days was the desire not to commit to more than he thought he could deliver. He dug out a small black device, half and half again the size of a garage door opener, with a little silvery button on it,

"Here. This is for turning off the television in the common room." Honestly it probably wasn't about who-wants-to-listen-to-that-crap and more about highly suspicious spying devices inside televisions or something.

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

"Control her? No, one doesn't muzzle fire. I want her actions observed. Noted. And reported back to me. And after I've deduced the most appropriate checkmate, then will I beseech your physical aid." Eddie paused, before adding. "I understand if the latter half requires more incentive."

But he made no offers, for the time being. Too many variables hinged on attaining the information first.

"For now." A pause. "An eye on the team is lovely, with a focus on Karla. That's all I need," he spoke quietly, earnestly. It was the lowest form of risk, he couldn't expose Ghost to miscalculated situations -- he might require the man.

Eddie took the device not without a deep degree of curiosity. He looked up at Ghost, caught somewhat off guard.

" -- Thank you."

[hacktivist]

"Your projections are ambitious." And scarily possible. Ghost bobbed his head in acknowledgment following the 'focus on Karla' part. It really wasn't all that much to ask. "Of late I am keeping a lower profile." Much lower. He hasn't stayed alive so long by being a reckless idiot.

"The least I could do." And it really was the least he could do, but he wasn't gonna argue with the boss-man's big plan. "I'll be listening for your call. Is there anything else?"

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

"Anything else?" Eddie hummed the words in his mouth, finding pleasure in their feel. He smirked, easing back into his stride. One less obviously hungering, one tempered with politic. He assumed a seat on his bed, hugging his knees close.

"Are you so eager to leave? Won't you keep me company?"

Eddie pointed to another riddle, one of the fourteen stained in his room.

THE MATE OF NEITHER
AND THE SPHINX UNRIDDLED
ENDED IN THE LAST OF END.

"I really only have those, otherwise."

[hacktivist]

It was a marked change; Ghost landed and paced over to the riddle indicated. "Dour company." Damn he liked the binary one more. "Does stumping people satisfy you? Or do you want them solved?"

Because he didn't think the orderlies and night nurses were qualified to decipher those.

Of course, he had a battle-suit supercomputer at his disposal and all he was doing was garbage-in-garbage-out. "Mister Nor? --there are 192 anagrams for 'ANDTHESPHINX' None are meaningful sentences."

Completely stymied. Probably because he was trying to do it all literally, like a jigsaw puzzle.

He turned to press his back to the wall, sliding down against it until he was sitting, resting his hands on his knees. "Can we talk about you? If I'm staying?"

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

"Can we talk about me?" Eddie repeated the question, infusing his own sense of incredulity. There was never any doubt in his mind, that this was a desirable topic of discourse. But there was little reason to withhold a show. "Well. I suppose it would be suitable, wouldn't it? Given that you must have questions."

Eddie leaned against a wall, his slim shoulders hunched appropriately. He watched his company with confident, corner-crinkled eyes.

"What is it you want to know?" Eddie inquired. "What, specifically about me, I mean?" He figured that Ghost had a particular angle to play out -- not one menacing, mind, but something worth watching. After all, reasoned Eddie, Ghost always had something worth watching going on.

[hacktivist]

"Was there an event? Or was your --ascent to your involvement in metahuman affairs gradual?" As a rule, the past interested Ghost less than the future and less still than the present - he was no psychologist, but he hoped this way to gain a little insight into his current boss's motives.