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Location: No Information
Born: 14 October 1989
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alias: Sigyn !
player age: 23
player pronouns: She/Her
character age: Twenty-seven
occupation OR house/set/dorm + year: Chief of Staff to the U.K. Minister of Magic
relationship status: "Who would ever fall in love with a freak show like you?"
small gif #1 (canon): https://cdnw.nickpic.host/mhHJWp.gif
small gif #2 (face claim): http://i65.tinypic.com/2zzszd3.jpg
character fandom: Batman
app/shipper: 1768
thread tracker: 93&view=findpost&p=7822
canon spirit: Edward Nygma/The Riddler
patronus: Platypus
boggart: His father
time zone: GMT
profile image: https://cdnw.nickpic.host/mhH9mb.gif
mp3: http://k003.kiwi6.com/hotlink/0xfcb6tp1w/Paloma_Faith_-_Ready_for_the_Good_Life_Official_Audio_.mp3
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Joined: 30-October 16
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Last Seen: Aug 19 2017, 08:44 PM
Local Time: Aug 20 2017, 10:54 PM
387 posts (1.3 per day)
( 2.52% of total forum posts )
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edward nygma

Ministry

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Aug 18 2017, 04:49 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify;">Suggest a song for the character above you!
<p>
It can be for any reason at all - the whole song fits them, there's one lyric that you like for them but the rest don't really fit, it just gives you the vibe/feel of the character, its what my character would think of your character, any reason is fine! Literally the smallest connection is good enough.
<p>
<b>Give the TITLE of the song, ARTIST of the song, a LINK to the song (YouTube is fine) and WHY you chose it</b>!
<p>
There's no-one above me so I'll do one for Bombarda:
<p>
<hr>
<p>
<center><a href='https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBpYgpF1bqQ'>We Are Family - by Sister Sledge</a><br>
Because you really are all like a family to me, no better way to put it really =P.<p>
<i>We are family<br>
I got all my sisters with me<br>
We are family<br>
Get up everybody and sing</i></center></div><center>[/dohtml]
Aug 16 2017, 06:05 AM
[dohtml]<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Just+Another+Hand" rel="stylesheet"><div style="width: 300px;">
<div style="font-size: 50px; color: #000000; text-align:left;">❝</div><br>

<span style="font-size: 30px; font-family: 'Just Another Hand'; color: #000000;">In regards to your criticism, have you at all considered Burke, that my exquisite mind can focus on more than one thing at once? After all, a mere 10% of my attention can provide more expertise for a task than the entirety of a Ministry department. If I were to give you my entire focus you would feel so inadequate at your own incompetence that it would be dreadfully unfair on you.</span>

<br><br><div style="font-size: 50px; color: #000000; text-align:right;">❞</div>
<br><br>
<div style="text-align:right;"><a href='http://bombardamaxima.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=4005&view=findpost&p=18266'>don't you know</a></div></div></center>[/dohtml]

[dohtml]<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Just+Another+Hand" rel="stylesheet"><div style="width: 300px;">
<div style="font-size: 50px; color: #000000; text-align:left;">❝</div><br>

<span style="font-size: 30px; font-family: 'Just Another Hand'; color: #000000;">Yes off you go Burke. The Minister and I have some more office bondage, sorry, <i>bonding</i>, to discuss.</span>

<br><br><div style="font-size: 50px; color: #000000; text-align:right;">❞</div>
<br><br>
<div style="text-align:right;"><a href='http://bombardamaxima.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=4005&view=findpost&p=18349'>don't you know</a></div></div></center>[/dohtml]
Aug 5 2017, 10:28 AM
[dohtml]<center><img src="https://68.media.tumblr.com/d477bb7ceaf7ee0bae099a23cc40baad/tumblr_oro6qfD81I1tt9zxqo3_500.gif" width="400px">
<br>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<p>

Things were not good in the Cobblepot household. The tension was almost palpable between the two men who had spent more time apart in the past few weeks than they ever had since Edward had moved in in the first place. It was usual for the two to bicker, petty squabbles driving them apart for a day or two at most while one or both of them sulked for a while, but this time it was different. Yes, it had been sparked by a little teasing taken the wrong way, as all of their spats seemed to be, and words had been said that had been, as usual, over-reacted to. But some of the words had been new this time, not just applying pressure to the usual trigger points to get a known reaction – it had been an entirely fresh stab wound alongside all the reopened injuries.
<p>
The end of their little argument hadn’t suggested anything too out of the ordinary either. Ed had lashed out too far and then immediately felt guilty for doing so, so had fallen into a dejected silence as Oswald had carefully dropped the implications to send Ed’s mind spiralling into self-doubt, until he finally stormed off to dwell on his issues alone. But the final word this time, the final thing spat out, was new: <i>‘that’s the only attention you seem to know.’</i>
<p>
Ed had already resulted to petulant silence by that point, but even if he’d still been on a rampage he wouldn’t have had a single word to say in his own defence to that. So he’d played his only remaining card and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him and disappearing to his room like an angry teenager. But that just gave him time to think, time to dwell, time to worry. And Ed getting lost in his own head never ended well for anyone.
<p>
Because Oswald was <i>right</i>, or at least, he seemed to be at first glance. If Ed found himself craving attention (which was a particularly common occurrence), his usual first method of getting it was to pour himself over Oswald, regardless of how appropriate the situation was for that… He wasn’t really sure what else to do though? You couldn’t just go up to someone and say ‘pay attention to me’ – he’d tried that method, it never worked. So… what?
<p>
And there in lay the problem. He couldn’t fix this one on his own. He couldn’t fix the other things Oswald usually drew his attention to either, but at least he’d come to terms with those. Edward over-reacted to even just the little things, so of <i>course</i> his response to this revelation was far too extreme as well. From the moment they’d parted after the words had been spoken, Ed had rejected any and every form of physical contact Oswald or anyone else offered him. A brush of fingers would make him jump, a hand on his shoulder with have him lurching away, and anything grander than that would be forcefully shoved away before Ed fled the room entirely.
<p>
Everything was strained now. If they spoke it was only briefly, and it was awkward and difficult at best. And for not the first time, Ed was hiding out in a mostly unused side room, keen to avoid everyone in this irritatingly busy house. He'd used this room as a bolthole more times than he could count, the door hidden at the end of a long corridor so most of the inhabitants never bothered to go near it. Evan had found him in here once, just after he’d begun working for Oswald, hiding behind the sofa and murmuring back to voices that weren’t there, before begging her not to tell anyone how she’d found him. She never had, of course – yet another thing Ed had kept from his partner in fear that Oswald would reject it, reject him. And look where they’d ended up anyway.
<p>
There was a noise outside the door, and Edward was on his feet before he could think twice, moving over to it and edging halfway into the corridor to look towards the source of the sound. He recognised that gait; it was easily distinctive enough to pick out from the light-footedness of the children, or the floaty way the old woman walked. So sure enough, his gaze quickly landed on his lover’s back as he moved away up the hall. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Oswald?”</b></span> he called out quickly before he could change his mind, but still surprisingly softly for the man who usually screamed boisterous in his every move. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Can we… can we talk?”</b></span>

<span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b> </b></span>

</div>


<div style="width: 400px; text-align: right; font-size: 10px; color: #0F6F4A;"><b>oswald cobblepot / 771</b><br>
<i>Take me for what I am, who I was meant to be<br>
And if you give a damn, take me baby or leave me</i></div></center>[/dohtml]
Jul 26 2017, 10:14 AM
[dohtml]<center><img src="http://pa1.narvii.com/6489/8a0d3b92d8831d57392fd33d41048ef0dc22ca06_hq.gif" width="400px">
<br>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<p>

The one benefit of being locked in a house with nothing to do but slowly ‘recover’, as if that was something that took weeks of concentration to achieve, was that when you actually set your mind to doing something, you had an awful lot of free time to achieve it. He’d heard about Oswald’s birthday soon after arriving here, his mother mentioning it a couple of times when Ed was around to overhear it. And it had been sometime after that odd little moment they’d shared one night, when Oswald had fallen asleep a little too close to him and Ed had spent far longer than he’d like to admit just watching the other man, that he’d decided he wanted to do something for it. So that had given him several weeks to plan things as well as time to carry it all out. Although judging by his current predicament, that still hadn’t been enough.
<p>
It was testament to Edward’s perfectionist nature, that far more of his work had ended up in the bin than in the final product. The most evidence was in the kitchen, where multiple failed attempts at baking a birthday cake had ended up just being thrown out because they weren’t exactly level or because the colour wasn’t quite the right shade. He’d given up with that for now, one last batch in the oven for him to check on later, although at this rate he might just call Harley and ask her to buy him one. Because she was in on his plan as well of course – he’d told her all about it in order to get her on side so she could smuggle things to him without Oswald noticing. And because Ed was terrible with secrets (it felt a little too much like a lie to keep information from people like that) so he’d just <i>had</i> to tell someone. She’d been the one to bring him all the craft supplies he was now surrounded by – although she may have got a little carried away considering how much she’d ended up dumping on him.
<p>
Most wizards didn’t realise how much they relied on their wands until they lost it for a while, and Ed was no different. Every few minutes in his task, he’d find his fingers twitching towards a non-existent wand, the memory of the Ministry snapping it in front of him coming back as a flash each time as he settled back to working by hand. At least he’d been raised as a muggle, so the idea of having to do things this way was not as foreign to him as it would be to some of the people he’d met at school who hadn’t even known how a felt tip pen worked.
<p>
Although, to be fair, art had never really been his thing either. But precision and symmetry <i>was</i> a strength of his, so the idea of creating perfectly identical shapes, along with consistent calligraphy and accurate outlines of images, was something he could easily get behind. Which was why the main room of the mansion was currently decked in purple triangular bunting with different Ministry logos detailed on every other flag. There was a similar set with penguins drawn on, crushed into the bin behind him. That had seemed like a good idea at the time but the more Ed had stared at it, the quicker it had seemed like a terrible choice, and it had been ripped off the wall in an instant, forcing Ed to start from scratch again. Honestly, he’d intended to get a lot more than this done by now, but he could never continue to the next task until the previous one was <i>perfect</i>.
<p>
Not that… this even felt perfect <i>now</i> to be honest… The more he looked around the room at the painstakingly prepared decorations, the space on the table where the unfinished cake should be, next to a wrapped present he was already regretting and trying to fight the desire to throw away with the rest of his errors, the less perfect it all felt. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“This is pathetic,”</b></span> he murmured to himself, fingers twitching towards the most recent bunting but he really didn’t have <i>time</i> to start on that again. But this just looked like a failed kid’s birthday party. And it was easy to understand why Ed had been drawn to such an idea – it was what <i>he</i> would have wanted to see, but that didn’t mean Oswald did. The Minister had probably been to hundreds of parties like this, had probably hosted many of his own as well. So this would all look childish and silly and really Ed should rip it all up and pretend he’d never done anything at all. But… he couldn’t do that either. He wanted to show Oswald his appreciation but… was this awful immature show of it really better than nothing?
<p>
Disappearing off to the kitchen to check on his latest batch of cakes and finally selecting one that fit his almost impossible criteria, he tried to push his doubt out of his head as he set about icing it. Luckily, he had the design drawn out already, so he didn’t have to worry about multiple attempts at getting the writing correct, and it was soon sitting in pride of place in the centre of the table. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“It’s still pathetic...”</b></span> Maybe it wasn’t too late to start again… he glanced at the clock as it ticked closer and closer to the end of the day. It should have been a shame Oswald had to work on his birthday, but now Ed was praying he would be late leaving too. Although even if he was held up for another hour, there was no way he could start all this over again.
<p>
His own heart was thudding in his chest as a sense of dread started to rise in him. The rest of the 'family' were supposed to come in later to share in this stupid make-shift failed attempt at a party, and now Ed could picture their faces as they mocked his efforts too, alongside Harley and Oswald’s mother. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“This is so stupid,”</b></span> he whined quietly under his breath, turning to look at the paper pinwheels hanging from one wall, and the 3D diamonds next to them that he’d learned how to make that morning on the internet. He made a move towards the nearest one, ready to tear it apart and hide the evidence, when he finally heard the sound of the doorknob turning behind him, making him jump and spin on his heel to face the door in anticipation instead. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“S-surprise?”</b></span>


<span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b> </b></span>

</div>


<div style="width: 400px; text-align: right; font-size: 10px; color: #0F6F4A;"><b>oswald cobblepot harleen quinzel evangeline riot klarion bleak / 1104</b><br>
happy birthday Oswald! Ed has literally no idea what birthdays are supposed to look like so he learned most of this from the internet but he is trying! <br>
(if you're tagged, you don't need to reply here but you're welcome to! It was just so you knew what was going on in the house!)</div></center>[/dohtml]
Jul 16 2017, 08:19 PM
[dohtml]<center><img src="https://nyoobserver.files.wordpress.com/2017/04/gotham-2.gif?w=635&h=355" width="400px">
<br>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<p>

This was it! Months of planning, far too long of it in fact, but he was <i>finally</i> ready to unveil himself to the world! New suit, new name, new style entirely: a perfect new beginning so he could step into the shoes of the man he was <i>always</i> supposed to be. His time as the assistant of Azkaban had been the first step, the first taste of the life that was waiting for him if he just chose to grasp it. But he hadn’t, and that opportunity had passed him by but <i>not this time</i>! No, now he knew what he wanted to do, who he wanted to become. He was going to use today as a platform to launch himself into this new identity. <i>The Riddler</i>. If people wanted him to be a villain, a criminal, a bad guy, if they thought a person could never change and would be nothing but a murderer no matter what they did then <i>so be it</i>. He would oblige, give them what they wanted, and make one hell of a show out of it in the meantime.
<p>
Although, admittedly a decent part of these last few months hadn’t been planning at all; it had just been… deciding. Deciding on what to do with his time now, his very precious time, that did not deserve to be wasted the way it was being as he drifted about aimlessly between roles. Oswald had been supportive of course; quite frankly, the man had seemed to get enjoyment out of Ed’s desultory sulking in their joint home, since it meant Ed spent far more time than usual clinging to him – because there was nothing else to do instead. But when he’d finally found himself drawn back towards that feeling of <i>power</i> he’d gotten from the deaths of those two long forgotten men, of <i>superiority</i> from besting them in some way moments before they’d died – in those cases by proving himself more of a threat than they’d given him credit for but now, no, now he had more ideas to grow that… But anyway, once that had finally clicked into place as an answer to his puzzle, Oswald had, surprisingly, been equally as encouraging. He’d hesitated of course, but hadn’t tried to dissuade him. Which was great... if a <i>little</i> bit odd.
<p>
But now was <i>the moment</i>, the time to unveil himself to the world whether they were ready for him or not! And the doors sealed shut below him as he stood on the balcony above to watch the entrance of the library with eyes filled with far more excitement than was really appropriate for a situation like this one, suggested the start of something <i>grand</i>. There were lives at stake after all, the lives of all the innocent people locked away behind the door out of the entrance hall and into the main rooms. The people there likely hadn’t even noticed their exit was barred yet, and even if they had, what could they do? They were muggles, and Ed had magic; it was an easy fight. Too easy in fact, and Ed had faltered a little about whether he should have gone for something harder but it was too late now. And anyway, the challenge wasn’t <i>for</i> the useless muggles. It was for whichever auror deciphered the note he'd sent them and came to find him.
<p>
<center><i>I hold hundreds of stories, but can’t tell you a one.<br>
Come find me to save them, at the end of the Sun.</i></center>
<p>
Simple, right? Hundreds of stories but can’t speak: must be a library. But that obviously wasn’t specific enough considering the Department he’d sent the riddle to covered all of the U.K. But, as anyone who bothered to do the research would discover, there was only one in the country that resided at the very end of a street with the word ‘Sun’ in it. Northside Sun, a very overly positive name for an area that was trying too hard to be posh in a neighbourhood that really wasn’t. Hence the overly grand entrance to the city’s main library – the fake marble really wasn’t fooling anyone but you had to hand it to them for trying at least. But, anyway, that wasn’t what he should be focusing on here. He should be paying close attention to the doors to see if anyone showed up.
<p>
And if they didn’t, he’d just have to set off his trap here and start all over again with a <i>new</i> riddle…


<span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b> </b></span>

</div>


<div style="width: 400px; text-align: right; font-size: 10px; color: #0F6F4A;"><b>Jameson Locke / 749</b><br>
<i>Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold,<br>
But you will remember me, remember me, for centuries</i></div></center>[/dohtml]
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