The Riddler ？Edward Nygma (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unriddling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
heyfreemagic2015-06-13 11:55 am
unriddling) wrote in heyfreemagic2015-06-13 11:55 am
¿? for a genius, riddler does a lot of stupid things
[Riddler has a gun.]
[He sits in his apartment, carefully turning it over in his hands. He doesn't really use guns in the first place--a bit too messy for his taste to work into heists, and he's bright enough to use less lethal things even before he had his powers--but he wasn't about to leave a trophy and weapon in the hands of someone that at least wanted to be a threat. And it is a gun, as much as it looks like harpoon. He can feel that it's more powerful, though it's not quite the same as the faint static of wires and the television and the lights. It doesn't fire bullets, but he isn't sure of anything beyond that. Lasers wouldn't surprise him.]
[He wants to test it, regardless of if he's going to use it again.]
[Instead of going out and hunting for a firing range, or some other clear area, he uses what he can. He simply moves the curtains opens his window and stares up at the other buildings. He's not quite at the top floor, and there's a building across the street with a rooftop garden, where a few sunflowers wave in the breeze near the edge. ]
[Why not. He aims it carefully and fires.]
[And then everything explodes.]
[There's no sunflowers anymore. Or a window to his apartment, nor a wall, and he's flat on his back across the room with the back of his head throbbing. Half the city probably saw that beam.]
[As soon as he realizes what happened, he shoves himself to his feet, grabs his few important possessions--the gun itself, the eyeglass, sharp questions, a simple shirt-and-jeans outfit he left on the bed--and runs.]
[He sits in his apartment, carefully turning it over in his hands. He doesn't really use guns in the first place--a bit too messy for his taste to work into heists, and he's bright enough to use less lethal things even before he had his powers--but he wasn't about to leave a trophy and weapon in the hands of someone that at least wanted to be a threat. And it is a gun, as much as it looks like harpoon. He can feel that it's more powerful, though it's not quite the same as the faint static of wires and the television and the lights. It doesn't fire bullets, but he isn't sure of anything beyond that. Lasers wouldn't surprise him.]
[He wants to test it, regardless of if he's going to use it again.]
[Instead of going out and hunting for a firing range, or some other clear area, he uses what he can. He simply moves the curtains opens his window and stares up at the other buildings. He's not quite at the top floor, and there's a building across the street with a rooftop garden, where a few sunflowers wave in the breeze near the edge. ]
[Why not. He aims it carefully and fires.]
[And then everything explodes.]
![[And then everything explodes.]](http://media.tumblr.com/cfbe0f0b1f478ff70c56374f76e7aab8/tumblr_inline_mnc3zxuiIN1qz4rgp.gif){kind=link}
[There's no sunflowers anymore. Or a window to his apartment, nor a wall, and he's flat on his back across the room with the back of his head throbbing. Half the city probably saw that beam.]
[As soon as he realizes what happened, he shoves himself to his feet, grabs his few important possessions--the gun itself, the eyeglass, sharp questions, a simple shirt-and-jeans outfit he left on the bed--and runs.]
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What in the fresh hell... ]
I said STOP DAMNIT!
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[Riddler slips into the street, dodging between cars that stall. He's not going to get caught by anyone, let alone this idiot with an accent.]
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[ The only question is- well, how but he doesn't think about it too much other than really wanting it to happen as he continues sprinting.
Maybe that's why an innocuous stick skitters from the gutter to intercept the guy's path. Not that it's all that big. Not that McCoy notices. ]
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[He leaps away from it and ends up slamming his hip against a car's side mirror instead. He doesn't quite fall, but that slows him down quite a bit.]
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You're gonna break somth'n if you keep knock'n around like that!
[ He's almost close enough- if he just stretches out a hand and- ]
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[His reactions's mostly instinctive, jerking to try to jam a pointy elbow into McCoy's ribs.] LET GO!
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Hold STILL you jackass-
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[Riddler's flexible enough he can sort of aim the gun towards the general direction of his captor's legs, despite not being able to exactly turn and look.]
no subject
The hell is this thing and the HELL is wrong with you-
no subject
You're one to ask what's wrong with me! [He struggles hard, jerking back as far away from the man as possible. He holds the gun tightly, but at least he doesn't actually have a finger on the trigger yet.]
no subject
[ had enough of this, bones has. Quite enough of it. He scrabbles for the gun, trying to keep it pointed away from him and the man and their feet and- everything really it wouldn't end well at all. ]
no subject
[Riddler tries for a sweeping kick to Bones' legs. He'd have to hurt him quite a bit more to get the stubborn, stressed villain to cooperate at all.]
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[He's fast, even in pain, and he aims another kick in Bones' direction even as he starts scrambling back to his feet.]