[Poor York probably would've preferred someone who was sane, or at least wasn't furious and visibly leaking something like oil from their mouth.]
What?
[Riddler flings himself out of reach with a snarl, immidiately circling back around to glare into York's visor. Jagged spokes of black jut out over his arms--instinctive, protective and easily offensive.]
[It takes approximately five seconds until he's shouting.] You--you--what did--how were you inside my hideout?
no subject
What?
[Riddler flings himself out of reach with a snarl, immidiately circling back around to glare into York's visor. Jagged spokes of black jut out over his arms--instinctive, protective and easily offensive.]
[It takes approximately five seconds until he's shouting.] You--you--what did--how were you inside my hideout?