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lights out
Warnings: Potential violence and psychological fuckery.
Location: Glitter Carnival
Characters: The Nox and you.
When: June 23rd through June 30th
Summary: There's trouble stirring up in the Glitter Carnival.
Despite its usual state of near-emptiness, Glitter Carnival’s name has been apt long before even the first arrivals were dropped into Freesia; the lights on the rides and stalls twinkle and glitter day and night, a cheery beacon from afar.
Until now.
Unceremoniously and unanimously, every light flickers and dies. The cheery carnival music continues over the rides’ speakers, but the rides themselves are perfectly still. None of Freesia’s citizens stick around, and not solely because of the uncomfortable ambiance.
The Nox have made a move, figuratively and literally. Larger than the ones scuttling through the rest of the city, they’re walking between the games and rides without a care. Some of their murky silhouettes are roughly shaped like clowns, some like every animal on the carousel…and, rarely, an oversized and certainly grotesque mix of both. And they’re whispering.
Glitter Carnival is Nox territory.
Anyone nearby is likely to get into trouble--or maybe that’s what they want. Give those Nox the good old one-two. Or maybe try and realize they can’t and flee. They certainly have options:
1. The Hall of Mirrors always seemed a bit more uncomfortable and frustrating than fun, but it looks like a good bolthole for someone panicking. Alas, only two steps in is the maze...and in the maze, some of the shadows have eyes. Good luck choosing the right ones, or the glass will be nearly as much of a hazard as the creatures themselves.
2. The rides are nonfunctional--or so it seems. If you look close, the inner components of most have a sticky black coating of ooze. Thing is, if you’re close enough to see that, you’re close enough for the Nox to spring into action and try to take you out. Enjoy dodging bumper cars and the like going at near-fatal collision speeds.
3. There's nobody around, but there are still voices, tempting or terrifying or both. The Nox would like to have a word with you.
4. Surely there are other things to do. It's a carnival! Ignore the Nox or try something else, go wild.
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He normally would wait and observe, but his patience is wearing thin. His powers are new, he quite enjoys them, but there's no Batman of Gorman or...or Julie to go after here. The enemies he's made in this place can't keep his full attention for long.
His words to the Batman not too long ago at the bottom of Gotham Bay come to mind again--what do i have to lose?--and he creeps into Glitter Carnival's darkness. Riddler tells himself he won't go in too deep.
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Stopped rides and abandoned booths are clustered wherever he looks, the air still smelling faintly of ash from the fire earlier that week.
Riddler may tell himself he won't go in too deep, but once he turns around, that's when he'll see it.
The Nox.
A seahorse, of sorts- the front half is that of a horse but the back is a fish tail, and it balances on the ground with its two front hooves and the pole impaled through its torso. Its tail swishes as it watches Riddler.
Good
eve-ning.
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"Interesting, perhaps." he says, surreptitiously looking it over. His mask is enough to hide his gaze, he's sure. "Good might be a stretch."
He hasn't really dealt with the Nox before. No need to risk his neck for idiots, after all, and this is the first time their invasion has actually posed a potential problem. He'd rather not have to relocate again so soon.
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You're not enjoy-ing
the Carni-val, Ridd-ler?
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"As you seem to know, I'm not Joker," he replies. "I prefer dark tech aesthetic over grungy abandoned amusement parks."
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We've nev-er heard
of Jok-er.
Are they a friend of yours?
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Riddler doesn't touch the word friend. Nothing like that exists for villains, after all.
"How do you know me?" Not that he expects a proper answer, but there might be clues.
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We pay atten-tion
to Lux's ag-ents.
Know-ledge is power.
A pause, as if to think.
You don't seem to have a-ny allies
or friends
Ridd-ler.
How strange.
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"Villains rarely do," he bites out. No, he doesn't have any allies here, not really. Ridder doesn't want to take his ex-henchman back after letting him go, after being certain he would die.
He can't stop a nauseating rush of something weak at thinking of Gorman, of Julie. He doesn't have anyone anywhere, not even back in Gotham.
"It isn't strange at all." He sounds angry.
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It seems strange.
Nor-mal hu-mans have a-llies or friends.
Hu-mans are weak when they're a-lone.
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Nevertheless, he is a human, and as hard as he tries to deny and ignore it, he doesn't want to be alone. He hates it, the wanting, the wondering what if he--what if Julie--?
"I can show you how well it works," he snaps, shoving the thoughts down. He can still feel there's something in the wires and rides around him that he can use if he needs to, even though something he can't cut through is keeping the light suppressed.
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We are famil-iar with Lux's mag-ic...
But then it's looking at Riddler again.
Do you not
Need any-one
Or do you tru-ly not
Want any-one?
Does any-one want you?
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That feels like a punch in the gut.
"Why would they?" He's pathetically proud of how cold-angry his voice is. He feels like something inside his chest is going to fold, but he presses on, shrugging exaggeratedly. "I'm a villain. Nobody wants villains unless they're providing a paycheck. I do what I want for myself."
He can't entirely keep the bitterness out of his voice.
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Does-n't it?
Be-ing un-wanted
Al-ways hurts hu-mans.
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He takes a jerky step to the side and snarls. "Shut UP! Shut up. I'll crush you if you don't." He doesn't have a counter-argument, he doesn't want to discuss this with anyone, anything.
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You seem clev-er
It's a shame to see you
Be-ing held back
By hu-man things.
We won-der...
suicide tw jic
And he doesn't have that, even with his powers. They don't react well when he's strained, but even if he did...the kidnapping from the only home he's ever known, even if he'd never say as much; realizing the reason he became the Riddler was based on lies from the start, just before his arrival; having no real goal to focus on for the first time ever, from get out of the house to succeed with the bio-harddrive to kill Gorman and die (more than once) to make your name as Riddler and you'll never be forgotten.
He has nothing, now, and the Nox is slapping him in the face with the fact he apparently can't help it.
"There's nothing for you to wonder," he says harshly. The rides nearby slowly come to life, even though the lights stay as dark as ever. The protesting gears sound like screams.
Riddler stands his ground, because he's stubborn and is under the control of his emotions and can't think. (Not that he'd really consider escape if he could; what's the point?)
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(The Nox don't wish to write the conversation off just yet.)
You're not help-less
Ei-ther.
Any-thing that holds you back
Can be let go of
But
There's al-ways a price
Is-n't there?
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The metal continues its screeching protest. Riddler continues standing where he is, fists clenched, nails cutting crescents into his palms.
"Is that a threat?" He's still off balance by everything and it's pathetic. He's not supposed to be stupid, he's not supposed to make even more mistakes, but that's just his life, isn't it.
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An off-er.
It gives him a moment to digest that.
We both have some-thing
We need.
The Nox need to thwart Lux
You need
To not need
Cor-rect?
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He glares and waits for it to expand on its offer or attack.
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A-lone
But Nox are not.
We are pro-posing a trade:
Lux mag-ic for Nox mag-ic.
Nox mag-ic can be ver-y power-ful
With the right us-er
And shad-ows are not so eas-ily weighed down.
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He's been used already. By Julie, by Lux. He has his powers, but for what? He doesn't care about the people here. He doesn't care about anything, and it still...hurts. It weighs him down.
He's powerful. He got his tech powers down quickly enough, didn't he? He can hand;e this. And if he doesn't...
"What do you mean? What do shadows do?" he asks sharply. He can at least poke to see if they're useless, or lying. (Not that he'd be able to tell without them, but right now all his thoughts are scattered in the wrong order through a emotion-fueled haze.)
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The Nox waves one hoof over the ground, and a ball of shadow forms underneath it. With a flick of the wrist, the ball rolls over to Riddler, stopping about a foot away from him.
It reshapes itself, sliding into the form of a massive moth. Rather like a normal Nox creature, although it lacks the glowing white eyes. It flaps its shadowy wings a few times, lifting itself into the air, and is soon flying in circles around the Riddler.
The shadow then lands in front of him again, and dissolves into a flat puddle. Thin tendrils stretch up from the puddle, getting thicker and thicker, forming petals and leaves until there's a neat row of shadow lilies lined up before Riddler.
Then the flowers begin to fuse together, reshaping into something more complex, a mass of shadowy coils and tubes and pumps and dials. Parts of it spin and twitch and billow, humming with unknown power.
(If he dares to touch the shadow at any point during this, Riddler will find it smooth, solid, and cool to the touch.)
The shadow engine begins to go faster and faster- and suddenly melts back and propels its mass over the top of Riddler, smashing through one of the teacups on the ride behind him.
The Nox watches, impassively, awaiting Riddler's reaction.
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Internally, he's trying to calm down, get out of the emotional haze that's still shifting rides in a rather wide radius.
And that makes it worse, thinking about it--he hates what his power does without his wanting, showing off his inability to control it, to control himself. Disgusting, pathetic, he doesn't want it anymore. And this--this has less limitations, he doesn't need to be near the lights or the computers for this. And even if they lied, even if they took his powers and gave him nothing he still has his wits and he won't have his mistakes shown off to anyone walking by.
"A trade." His needs to know a little more, but a part of him already knows his answer. He doesn't want his weakness to control him, even though it's technically fueling his decisions now. There's a sense of real desperation in his chest that he struggles to keep from his voice. "What would you get out of it?"
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