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Born: 14 October 1989
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alias: Sigyn !
player age: 22
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): http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l11/Jespeon/ArkhamCity_zpsrq1mrmr7.gif
small gif #2 (face claim): http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l11/Jespeon/Cos%20GIF_zpswkwpdcwx.gif
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: http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l11/Jespeon/City%20projection_zpslpb3ls9u.gif
mp3: http://k003.kiwi6.com/hotlink/0xfcb6tp1w/Paloma_Faith_-_Ready_for_the_Good_Life_Official_Audio_.mp3
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Last Seen: Jun 25 2017, 08:06 AM
Local Time: Jun 27 2017, 07:15 PM
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edward nygma

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Jun 19 2017, 09:39 AM
[dohtml]<center><img src="http://68.media.tumblr.com/84c85a2f79d6d7c5f9905ed594036a8a/tumblr_ojjimwrGT11vkpjkso4_500.gif" width="400px">
<br>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<p>

<i>He loves someone else.</i>
<p>
Edward couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as Burke led him away from the others, his legs moving automatically in the direction he was tugged while the rest of the world clouded over around him. It was all unimportant now, nothing mattered anymore. Not now he’d heard that.
<p>
<i>He loves someone else. Always has. For longer than he’s known me. He’s not sure who he loves more but sometimes it’s him, not me.</i>
<p>
How was he supposed to take that? He kept playing Oswald’s words over and over again in his head, but it wasn’t exactly like he was misinterpreting them. That’s what had been said. And he could hardly argue it wasn’t true either. What was he supposed to do with that information? He felt the ground disappear beneath him for a moment, the familiar lurch of his stomach as they touched down somewhere else – Burke must have apparated them somewhere. He hadn’t really realised where he was going, despite the fact the man must have said something to him by now. He just remembered feeling an arm guiding him once he was out of the room.
<p>
<i>He loves someone else. I’ve only ever had half his love at best. But he’s had all of mine…</i>
<p>
He should probably have been paying attention to what was going on around him, but he eventually felt himself nudged towards a sofa, the impact of sitting down enough to knock one of the tears onto his cheek that had been building up in the corner of his eyes since the moment Oswald had confessed, but he didn’t seem to notice that anyway. The world was just noise around him, blurred shapes which he soon tried to block out by pressing his hands over his face, only remembering he was even wearing his glasses when his fingers pressed against them, and quickly dropping them into his lap instead. His elbows landed on his knees to complete the dejected appearance of a man whose life had just fallen apart around him. Which it had. He was nothing without Oswald, <i>had</i> nothing without Oswald. And at the very best, if he ignored everything else and went crawling back to the man anyway, he might, <i>might</i>, have half of Oswald.
<p>
<i>He loves someone else.</i>
<p>
The tears fell freely now they were shielded from the rest of the world, landing in the palms of his hands as he tried to hide the way his chest jumped with each sob. Not that it really mattered, it was too late to hide how he was feeling now. But years of practice of hiding under blankets and keeping his breathing as level as possible so no-one around him would be able to tell he was crying, had created a habitual method that was rather had to break out of even all these years later.


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

</div>


<div style="width: 400px; text-align: right; font-size: 10px; color: #0F6F4A;"><b>Burke Riegel / 476</b><br>
<s>oh hey look, I found a use for that GIF</s></div></center>[/dohtml]
Jun 7 2017, 11:57 AM
[dohtml]<center><div style="background-image: url(http://www.designbolts.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Triangle-White-Seamless-Patterns.jpg); width: 300px; border: 4px solid #0F6F4A; padding: 10px 10px 10px 10px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<img src="https://68.media.tumblr.com/avatar_82b97c7cd1d7_128.png" style="width:75px;height:75px;border:4px solid #0F6F4A;" align="right">

<br><br><br><br><br>

The temptation to just call out ‘hi honey I’m home’ was an almost impossibly difficult one to ignore as Ed threw open the door to the house they technically shared but which still really felt like Oswald’s. But that didn’t seem <i>quite</i> dramatic enough for the entrance he wanted to make. After all, Oswald would surely be <i>distraught</i> that Ed had been away from him for so long: he couldn’t announce his return with just a cheap joke like that.
<p>
It was, of course, entirely Oswald’s fault that Ed spent so long away from home these days. It was partly down to the fact that Ed was obviously an independent and powerful villain in his own right, and had far more important things to do than hang around in a boring little house like a dutiful boyfriend. If Oswald had expected him to do just that then he had fallen for the wrong man entirely – though Ed couldn’t really blame him for that, could he? He was, of course, <i>irresistible</i>.
<p>
The other reason though, was because Oswald had sort of banned Ed from working on anything robotics related within the house. Completely uncalled for of course, and Ed hadn’t really understood why he’d been so insistent on it. Some nonsense about not wanting to wake up covered in wires again when Ed was tinkering with things over night, or about having to fight off one of the slightly malfunctioning prototypes that had seemed insistent on stealing Oswald's sandwich from him. Tiny inconveniences necessary in the grander scheme of technological advancement but fine, whatever, he’d do it elsewhere.
<p>
It meant he often disappeared without warning for days on end: but it had been weeks this time. No note, no warning, nothing, just suddenly one day there was no Ed. Of course Oswald must be worried <i>sick</i>, and despite the fact Ed would <s>rarely</s> never wish harm on his love, he was really quite excited to see exactly how that concern would manifest when he reappeared so suddenly like this. Would he be angry, shout, chastise him for leaving? Or would he just be too relieved to see him unharmed? Straight into a hug, maybe? He'd better come rushing out to greet him at the very least.
<p>
He left a moment’s pause after the door had opened, to glance around the hallway in front of him, before calling out <b>“Oswald,”</b> in the same performer voice he used to get the attention of the general public whenever he was about to do something <i>big</i>. <b>“<i>So</i> sorry I’ve been away for so long.”</b> That didn’t sound particularly authentic really; in fact his excitement was audible in his voice already, and a smirk was twisting itself onto his lips as he finished off his grand entrance with, <b>“Have you missed me?”</b>

<br><br>
<img src="https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/587628544349577218/fi151fCT.jpg" style="width:75px;height:75px;border:4px solid #0F6F4A;"> oswald cobblepot</div></center>[/dohtml]
Jun 5 2017, 06:06 PM
[dohtml]<center><img src="https://68.media.tumblr.com/4dff29c0c19abccb4ed5bbfcda4978b1/tumblr_ojxb3oiLux1vuvxf9o2_400.gif">
<br>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<p>

Edward Nygma did not need anyone’s <i>help</i> with anything.
<p>
He was a genius, a polymath, a master of everything he laid his hands to, and a collector of all forms of knowledge. So when he found himself lacking some sort of vital information about something or other he came across, he never gave a second thought to pouring over research to make sure he knew everything he could about it in as short a time as possible (and most importantly, so he could be sure he knew more about the thing than anyone else did). A problem arose however, when the only way to access said information, was via actually talking to another human being and admitting he didn’t already know it.
<p>
Some specialist subjects could only be delved into by discussing them one-on-one with their respective experts, but Ed avoided that method as much as possible. He never used to be like this – he used to flock to academics and researchers to hang off their every word as they enthused about their topic of choice. But ever since he’d been out on his own, his superior intelligence was his major redeeming feature, enough to earn him a reputation among criminals and innocents alike. If people were to ever doubt that he was quite as brilliant as he claimed he was, his standing in both the public eye and the underbelly of the magical world could collapse into ashes in moments. So yes, he generally avoided any interactions that could result in him admitting not to already comprehend something completely.
<p>
However, his curiosity was still a force to be reckoned with, and when he found himself obsessing over a question or a problem, there was little else he could convince his mind to focus on until an answer had been found. This particular one, though small in nature, had been driving him mad for days now, and the name and address of the one woman who might have answers for him had been written out and destroyed a hundred times over as he flitted between visiting her and not every time the question came back to mind. He’d never even <i>liked</i> herbology as a subject, or botany as a whole. But the hybrid plant that had caught his eye in the museum he’d performed his latest heist on had captivated his interest somehow, and he just <i>had</i> to know more about it.
<p>
When he had eventually caved to the obsessive <i>need</i> to know everything about everything, he had sought out the cottage this ‘Miss Isley’ apparently lived in, but a new issue soon presented itself: how to actually go about doing this. He was hardly going to knock on her door and beg her to teach him, was he? So he set his eyes on a more open ambush style approach instead.
<p>
Waiting just a few feet from the path that led to her home, he strode in front of her as the woman appeared a little way down the road. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Miss Isley I presume?”</b></span> he greeted, as cordially as possible when one has a smirk plastered across their face at all times. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“I’d like a word if you’d be so kind.”</b></span>


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

</div>


<div style="width: 400px; text-align: right; font-size: 10px; color: #0F6F4A;"><b>Piper Isley / 532</b><br>
<i>I won't let you turn around, and tell me now I'm much too proud<br>
To walk away from something when it's dead</i></div></center>[/dohtml]
Jun 5 2017, 01:16 PM
[dohtml]<center><img src="https://68.media.tumblr.com/804e9a24cf8cfff9936b01d1344e0c98/tumblr_opoqzdAAMK1r4d3w4o8_400.gif">
<br>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<p>

Judging by the scurrying figures darting between the monitors Edward was watching, it seemed like the morons at the auror department had actually managed to crack this one.
<p>
He always sent them little clues of course, perfect riddles describing exactly when and where he would be before he acted so that they had an opportunity to stop him if they wanted to – well, it was a little more than that of course. His real motive was more to do with testing his wits against the law enforcement team who wanted so much to bring him in, since each puzzle they didn’t solve just further proved how intellectually superior Ed was to them.
<p>
Actually it ran deeper than that too, but even Ed wasn’t aware of quite how obsessive compulsive the pre-crime clues had become to him at this point. He still saw them as a harmless bit of fun, and hadn’t considered even trying to pull off a stunt without the customary cryptic warning beforehand – so how was he to know that he wouldn’t be able to stop if he wanted to?
<p>
He did always feel a little flash of disappointment when the aurors tripped one of his security measures, and he was forced to acknowledge that they had worked out the answer to his little test – but then this one really had been so easy he would have been surprised they had the brain power to walk and talk at the same time if they hadn’t managed to actually solve it. So he brushed off that flicker of annoyance ever so quickly, and focused in on what he was going to do with his little guests now that they’d arrived.
<p>
They were so easy to predict, and despite the fact Ed had worked so closely with their protocols for so many years, he was sure he could have tricked them even without that intimate knowledge. Like now for instance, he’d barely done anything to guide them into the room they were heading for, and yet there they flocked like moths to a flame, cheerily walking straight into the trap he’d laid out just for them.
<p>
He wasn’t waiting for them there of course. Oh no, he was safely tucked away in a surveillance room, feet up on the control panel in front of him as he observed the little team on the screens before him. The room had been out of use for a while before he’d swept in of course, but it hadn’t taken long for the genius of technomagic to get it back up and functioning far better than it ever had before, giving him access to every corner of every room in the old empty office block the aurors were traversing. The plot they were working to intercept had been put on hold while Ed dealt with his intruders first – he could quite quickly send out the command to return his loyal henchmen to their workstations once the visitors were gone, so Ed had as much time as he wanted to play with the aurors before he dealt with them more permanently.
<p>
And play he would.
<p>
There was no rush though. There were a thousand and one different variants of trap he could spring once the aurors were in position; he might as well take his time in deciding which to use. With a flick of the wand dangling in his right hand, one of the invisible cameras zoomed in towards the faces of the darling little law enforcement officers so Ed could get a better look over them all. He recognised most of them of course, either from working alongside them or, much more likely, from their previous attempts to try and disrupt the workings of The Riddler. It meant he could perform his own little running commentary as each one passed across the screen before him. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Useless, moronic, boring, I’m not even sure how you’re still alive, you were great fun last time at least with the screaming, and… oh, what’s this?”</b></span> His legs dropped down from the console as he sat up to lean in closer to the latest face passing by on the screen. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Well if it isn’t the Sumeragi orphan. My my, it <i>has</i> been a while, hasn’t it?”</b></span>
<p>
That more or less decided things then; while he had reasons to enjoy a personal showdown with each and every auror wandering his halls at that moment, Takumi was the only one who hadn’t experienced the brilliance of the Riddler first hand yet. No, he only knew the reserved Chief of Staff Edward, and he hadn’t even been able to handle him back then, had he? Imagine what sort of reaction he’d get <i>now</i>!
<p>
As expected, the aurors reached the room Ed had wanted them to, and split out into their usual formation to cover the whole room, wands pointing out ready to attack even as they scanned for any sign of life. Ed had more than enough tricks to deal with that though – this room was defended to the hilt, doubly so by the fact all evidence pointed to the fact he should have been in the open floor of the office block with them. That’s what he’d been counting on of course, and just as the murmurs of confusion began to rise up amongst his now more-or-less prisoners, a smirk split across Ed’s lips, and a switch on the dashboard in front of him was flipped.
<p>
<span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Looking for meeee?”</b></span> Seemingly out of nowhere, a hologram was projected into the space in front of them, Ed visible from chest up as he leaned back into his chair and lifted his feet back to their earlier position. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Sorry to disappoint boys, but you’re a little way off yet. Tell you what though, I’ll give you a clue as to which direction you should be travelling in next, hmm?”</b></span> His head tilted to the side, the smirk splitting wider into a full grin that was clear in his tone as he spoke again. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“Riddle me this: what has eighteen feet, and falls through the air at approximately one hundred and twenty-two miles an hour?”</b></span> A pause, it was only fair to let them answer, before, <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“you, my dear intruders. Au revoir!”</b></span> Another wand flick and the press of a button in front of him, and the space beneath the feet of nine of the ten aurors suddenly opened up as trap doors fell away below them. A flash of white in the same moment had the wands they had been wielding flying out of their grasp too, a rather ingenious automation of the Expelliarmus spell Ed had been working on for a while now. Couldn’t have them just levitating themselves back out now, could we?
<p>
As the trap doors slammed shut again, Ed’s laughter could be heard echoing around the now far more empty room, the man in the image looking positively gleeful at how easy it had been to dispose of so many trained professionals so easily. It had taken him weeks to set up such security measures of course, and the technology he was operating from his safe room had taken years to develop, but that wasn’t the point. In the moment, it had been easy. <i>That</i> was the point. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“It’s almost like they’d never bothered to research the terminal velocity of a human being,”</b></span> he added, his voice still filled with humour despite the severity of his most recent action. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>"How very naïve of them.”</b></span> His gaze turned towards the one auror who was yet to so much as lose his wand, the one now stood alone besides the empty spaces his colleagues had once inhabited, the one who had captured Ed’s attention a moment earlier with enough force to keep him safe for at least a little while longer. <span style="color:#0F6F4A"><b>“It’s been a while kid: how’ve you been?”</b></span>


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

</div>


<div style="width: 400px; text-align: right; font-size: 10px; color: #0F6F4A;"><b>Takumi Sumeragi / 1,307</b><br>
<i>All the eyes on me in the centre of the ring just like a circus.<br>
When I crack that whip, everybody goin' trip just like a circus</i></div></center>[/dohtml]
May 29 2017, 07:59 PM
[dohtml]<center><img src="https://media.giphy.com/media/26FxMVXpPeFyfBBni/giphy.gif" width="400px">
<br>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; color: #000000;">
<p>

It didn’t matter how long he’d been here, or how many weird little treatments he’d been subjected to already. It didn’t matter how familiar he was with the chair he was currently being strapped into, or the almost spotlight-style lamp overhead beaming down on him and leaving the edges of the room in shadow. It didn’t matter that he knew there was no point in resisting any of this, or that even just trying to pull his arms away from the shackles awaiting him would just result in them eventually binding tighter. None of that meant that Edward struggled any less as he was brought in, none of it let him remain any shade of calm when he was held down by the orderlies, nothing helped slow his racing mind or helped clear the images of previous ‘sessions’ with other doctors, or even the memory of how certain other inmates had re-emerged from this particular room in the past…
<p>
But. Well. There wasn’t too much he could do about it, was there? He was, after all, the prisoner in this scene, and by all accounts his human rights had been stripped away the second he’d been marched through these doors. That wasn’t <i>supposed</I> to be the case really, but apparently the public didn’t care about what happened to those poor souls locked away in Arkham Asylum. Enough people wanted him dead if the reaction to his trial was anything to go by; surely they wouldn’t mind if something awful actually did happen to him here now.
<p>
Although thoughts like <i>that</i> weren’t exactly helping anything either. Maybe he really was just being melodramatic, but reality was a hard thing to keep a grip on here sometimes. Okay, so, breathe. His eyes closed slightly and he finally let his arms stop fidgeting against their bindings. Treat this logically. The inmates who’d come out of this room screaming and crying had all been embarrassingly weak-minded, hadn’t they? Ed had quite easily manipulated them after a few brief encounters, so it was no surprise they hadn’t managed to fight off whatever ‘therapy’ they were being subjected to. Well Edward wasn’t like that – he’d been to hell and back in recent months, so he was strong enough to fight anything off.
<p>
… And now his curiosity was beginning to kick in too. Because what <i>had</i> caused such a dramatic reaction in those other ‘patients’? What had actually been done to make them snap like that? It must have been quite intense… He was still jittery of course, but now there was a flash of excitement running through his veins alongside his nerves, the adrenaline being split in two directions. If the only way he could find out what went on in this room was to experience it himself, then that was at least one small benefit of all this.
<p>
Again, he didn’t exactly have a choice here, but suddenly it felt just the slightest bit more like this was on his terms now. It wasn’t. But Ed was very good at shifting his perspective in situations like this to make himself feel at least a little more in control. So he was already several magnitudes more relaxed when his eyes eventually snapped open at the realisation that he wasn’t actually as alone in the room as he’d at first assumed...


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

</div>


<div style="width: 400px; text-align: right; font-size: 10px; color: #0F6F4A;">jonathan crane / 555</b><br>
the fear of fear (or of phobias at least) seemed like a fitting title for this little set ~</div></center>[/dohtml]
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