WHO: Riddler, Rose
WHERE: Some busy street somewhere somehow IT DOESN'T COMPLETELY MATTER
WHEN: FORWARDDATED to 6/28, in the evening
WARNINGS: Rose has a potty mouth and at least one sharp pointy stick that isn't melted at the end still
FORMAT: No
(
because smug is exactly what i need when i'm two more missed showers away from Insane Hobo status )
No. No, there was no coincidence behind this. And Edward wasn't about to let this variable interfere with his plot. The communicative underground network established was meant to ensure a free channel of information, and whoever had it out for Stark would be met with opposition.
Seething at the audacity of the quandary, Eddie strolled down the evening-lit street, his mind obsessing over these puzzle pieces. So transfixed was he, that the man didn't quite notice brushing into a young woman until after he felt the cool touch of something that wasn't normal clothing. He did a double take.
And still couldn't believe it, really. Even knowing the City's denizens ( ... )
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Nothing familiar came to mind looking back at Edward, and that alone was starting to bother her. Her expression darkened, interrogating without even saying anything. Who?
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"My dear." Eddie bit his lip, taking a moment to phrase this tactfully. "Do you require assistance?"
Had that translated to what is wrong with your face? Hopefully not.
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Well, whatever the reason, she didn't warm to it. Taking two steps closer, head cocked to the side, she wrinkled her nose at him. "Do I look like I need your assistance?"
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This was a hell of an opportunity.
"You look like you could use a hot meal, especially." And a shower. "Look, I don't really have time to waste bickering. So you can either take advantage of my offer or we can part amicably." Dear God, intentional stress on amicably.
"I obviously know who you are, and you don't know me. Aren't you curious?"
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That, and the prospect of food was something she was having a hard time ignoring. Maybe there'd be a shower out of the deal. That was more enticing. Dealing with Mr. Personality might be worth not feeling a month's worth of sweat and dirt all over.
She gave an indifferent 'hmph' at his question. "I dunno. Should I be?" But more importantly, "And is that offer legit, or are you just here to waste my time?"
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And why should he? He knew the important facts. The rest he'd glean in time.
"Since you're still in my presence, I presume that means you're taking the offer." Quite interesting, Eddie thought. Whatever Miss Wilson had just come from, well, it was far worse. "Shall we pick up something quick--perhaps from a vendor--and we can catch a cab to my place."
Well. Lust's place. But she was never around. The probability of the apartment's owner discovering Eddie had brought back yet another
guest? One hundred percent. The probability that she'd find out this day? Twelve point seven percent. Margin error of three percent. He'd deal with Lust later. Because, honestly, this chance before him? Well now ( ... )
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So. This guy was from home? Or he was just very good with his information. Either way, he wasn't just an ordinary schmuck. That meant not punching that look right off his face. For the moment. Besides, she'd bummed off of sleazier before. It couldn't be that bad.
"You're buying," she answered, raising an eyebrow at him.
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"Hope you don't mind eating on the way to 42nd. Taxis flood that area this time of night, so it would benefit us to be in that general direction." Which was, what, merely a few blocks westward? Nothing heinous. Approaching the vendor, Eddie gave the order for just Rose. Without asking her consent, of course, but there wasn't much of a selection to begin with. He assumed she wouldn't mind terribly. As he surrendered the warmed gyro wrap to Rose, Edward quickly searched her face for any clue to her intent. He knew this lithe lady to be lethal, but at the same time, she was young. And the young were always easier to manipulate. Question was, was she an exception ( ... )
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Balling the unedible remains of the gyro in a fist and pitching it in a can that crossed their path on the way to 42nd--see that? All that good guy stuff rubbing off on me. Keeping the streets clean. Ha.
Only after she'd made sure nothing was left underneath her fingernails did she bother to respond, skeptical look returning. "I'm not a fan of guessing games," she said. "You'll either tell me now, or I'll get it out of you later." The tone seemed to imply an unpleasant sort of 'later'.
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That last observation got her interest, glancing over her shoulder at him before climbing into the cab. Well, if he was from back home, then, duh, he'd have one of those glorified Blackberries, too. Good guys and bad guys all seemed to get one.
"Twenty-seven days," she replied with a grunt, sliding to the other end of the seat. "And that shouldn't be a big surprise--I hardly used the thing."
The thing she'd 'accidentally' thrown across the room and left to collect dust.
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Edward opened the back door for Rose, tilting his head slightly.
After giving directions to the cab driver, he turned his full attention back to Rose. And smiled. "And just where were you?" The question was on repeat. That in itself was telling.
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She added, smirking vaguely as she tilted her head away from him. "Nowhere you'd be excited to be, anyway."
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Perhaps.
"Next stop over." Edward directed the cab driver, and soon they pulled to a stop.
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