Riddler struggled with himself the entire day. It wasn't the most comfortable thing to be out during the day, but the wasn't much of a change from his life before the Deal. No, there was something else in the air, a prickling that kept stopping him from bursting in on the park's events.

He found himself wiping his hands off more and more, and his face. Little trails of darkness welled up from under his nails and over his lips, though at least his tattoos and lipstick hid the latter well enough.

...Why did he even want to again? They weren't worth targeting. No, they were. They weren't. They were, they were Lux's people, and he hates them. Yes, that was why.

Either way, he ended up skulking along the alleys as usual, from the park to along the edges of the hospital to the gym. He was preparing to take care of a few body builders who'd been staring at the sky rather than around them--

and then the fireworks went off.

Riddler leaped backwards and nearly collapsed, barely catching himself by sliding into a roll, and then he was running. The noise and light normally wouldn't bother him, but there was something wrong with those ones, horribly. Every BOOM rattled in his bones, every flash seemed to sear the skin exposed by his costume.

He didn't look where he was going at all. He just needed to hide.

Lux help whoever may get in his way.