sci-punk blades.

❝   And I could point out that there is a logical incongruity in what you’ve just said as well, darling, since diamonds don’t cost anything when you’ve stolen them from someone. ❞

    She grins widely.

❝  Didn’t know you were a fan of me, I actually thought the contrary. ❞

❝   Touché. Though let me extrapolate; I find your means banal, base, underhanded, and simple-minded. I find your ends charming in prospect. You're not playing the game fairly if you strip them of their wits, after all. So we can go ahead and say that I'm a fan of what you do, but how you do it is a different matter.

❝  Besides. There is a level of respect inherent in interacting with other women in my particular field. To put it quite bluntly, the men are much more disposable. ❞

Seeing as he was not being put in a death trap or being told to get out, he saw it as a sign that he was doing quite well for someone with the reputation of being an antisocial curmudgeon. He would never claim to be a social butterfly still yet he could step up to the plate when it was necessary.

"And what if I want to create Somalian children for us instead instead? Surely, I am capable of producing. And a homo novus such as yourself must get tired  of having takeaway all the time.” He was talking, of course, about cooking the dishes himself. The innuendo that could be inferred from such a question completely flew over his head. Jonathan wasn’t the sort to just so casually suggest such things, after all, or actually think of them like your average person would.

His transition into the next topic is smooth, as he sees no problem with what he had just said. “And no, pyrotechnics has never been a skill of mine and explosions are just so mundane, a dime a dozen in this city,” he hummed with a tilt of his head. Just as she said, anyone with internet access could learn how to make homemade explosives. “If I were to make a bomb of any kind, it would be one that would release an acid or a pathogen of my own making. Of course, the technical aspect, the bomb making would be a difficulty for me.” He was not one for machines. He could barely operate a cellphone beyond the ancient one he owned.

Stunned at first by the innuendo that the doctor seemed to glaze over with perfect ignorance, Nygma sputtered a quiet laugh when it occurred to her what it was, exactly, he was getting at. Poor Professor Crane, tripping over himself when he wasn't even aware of it like the gawky nerd he was. She'd bring this up again one day, maybe over a cup of coffee with him or maybe over the chess board in the occupational therapy room in Arkham, and he'd turn red and deny it and she'd laugh and call him Casanova for the rest of his days.

"All right, hotshot, you're cooking, then." Once again slipping her phone out of her pocket, she keyed out another quick text to cancel the order and went about the task of getting to her feet and smoothing out the wrinkles on her trousers and jacket. "Let's do your place. I gotta say, I'm curious to see what kinds of curio can be found in the lair of the God of Fear, and if we're being up front, Jonny, I'm frankly going to be disappointed if I don't find at least one human appendage in a jar somewhere. Bonus points for two-headed animal mummies. Allons-y?"

She could bring it back to the topic of explosives, of course. If business occurred to her again once inside what she could only assume would be a portal to some disturbing and macabre other dimension inside Crane's apartment. Curiosity killed the Riddler, as usual.

               hey, it’s not our fault that our uniform                is better than whatever you pull out of                your closet! 

      Say whatever you like, dear, but you're         only making a display of your own poor         taste.

Too easy. “I am maize.” Riddler’d used that one on him, before, and plenty others, too. Aaron isn’t the biggest fan of surprise riddles at this point, but had gotten rather good at solving them. “I’m here to pick up a package, though, and not to play games. If Riddler had wanted that he would have come himself.”

Somewhat obvious, but he’s definitely not in the best mood now. He meets her eyes, tries not to look away first. He’s been in enough staring matches to know that looking away means admitting defeat. He only admits defeat to his Riddler. And the Batman, but the Batman didn’t really count. “If you would please give me the package, I’ll be g to one.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Nygma regarded his standoffishness with all the respect one might afford a child on the cusp of a temper tantrum. Solving one riddle didn't make him untouchable -- it made him worthy of holding something she'd created in his stupid, fumbling hands. So, with a snap of her fingers, two young women stepped out of the Riddler's car from either side of the back seat. One carried a dull silver briefcase with a key-operated lock built into the handle, and the other carried an assault rifle. They, of course, needed no introduction, and as Query held out the briefcase to the middleman, Echo stood stoic at Nygma's side.

"A word from the wise, sport," the Riddler chimed in as the package became well within the lad's reach. "When someone in a green suit asks you a riddle, she's not playing a game. She's deciding whether to leave you with a sucking stomach wound or whether to hand you your package and send you on your merry way."

Transfer of the agreed upon goods complete, Query retreated to her side and Nygma resumed, "Now you have a good time with that data, there, champ. Tell your boss he's always welcome to stop by for coffee and weiqi."

               that suit is so not cool. 

once again, and unsurprisingly so, someone sporting the symbol of the Bat is utterly, utterly wrong.

                                    How expected.

PSA; concerning greetings and starters

❝ Then you don’t know  me very well, Eddie, which is quite understandable. I can assure you a girl’s best friend will always be diamonds. ❞

❝ I could point out a logical incongruity in your reasoning, being that diamonds cost money which is made from paper which requires cotton and flax fibers, but. Hey, far be it from me to take the pleasure of riches away from you. ❞

A pause;

❝ Besides, I'm a fan of any lady who can turn men into blubbering idiots with the simplest of ease. ❞

-Anonymous  (via graham-rising)

❝ If something costs much  it usually means it’s worth buying. And, of course, I don’t need you to tell me I look good —- though it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a few compliments. ❞

❝ I didn't know Mother Earth delighted in the frivolities of mammalian materialism. I thought daisies were a girl's best friend. ❞

          ’ oh, Eddie, darling, you look wonderful. ‘

❝ I should, given how much I paid for this suit. But thank you for noticing, Red. I'd return the compliment, but I'm sure you don't need any help from me in knowing you look, as you always do, ravishing. ❞