said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars

[mantlepieces]

WHO: REGGIE MANTLE and EDWARD NYGMA
WHERE: De Chima Library
WHEN: Evening on the 27th
WHAT: Money always catches Reggie's attention, even (or especially) mystery money.
WARNINGS: Probable allusions to violence, maybe other things. Will ETA.


[ But, attention-catching or not, Reggie can't help but question and be wary of receiving, out of the blue, $1,000 with a mysterious letter attached. It would probably be easier to just take the money and run, though whoever left it obviously knew his address somehow, so that wasn't as smart as it might seem off the bat.

But, well, with so many people gone off to god knows where overseas, now is probably as good a time as any to follow-up on mysterious, potentially shady sums of money dropped off in his mailbox. So he goes, figuring he has to less to lose that why than by not going.

The De Chima library is in a odd state of partial repairs when he arrives there, it seems; no construction appears to be going on, but one wing is closed off to visitors "for repair." From what he can see it looks there was like an avalanche of shelves; earthquake or something? Not that it matters, as he's here to meet someone, not browse books. At that time of night there's pretty much only one other person around, so Reggie approaches him. ]

Hey. You sent me this, right? [ Reggie holds up the note. ] So what d'you want?

Comments

[enigmaestro]

Very astute of you, Mr. Mantle.

[Eddie kept his tone dry and his eyes rolled; he hadn't lured the younger man out of a generally glowing impression wrought. He needed Reggie to fulfill a particular role with regards to Ramir. Given a particular revelation, the reformed Riddler thought it might be prudent to continue guiding his protégé in a more sustainable manner. But he needed a vessel to enact his will.

Hence Reggie Mantle.]

Why don't you take a seat? You'll have to appreciate the property value of this table -- apparently they're in rare possession given the... Repairs here.

[mantlepieces]

[ Frowning somewhat, still wary, Reggie begrudgingly nodded slightly before he did sit down, crossing his legs under the table and his arms on top of it. This man was familiar in that Reggie was sure he'd seen him around before, familiar in the way other imPorts can be even if you'd never personally spoken with them, but hardly familiar enough that Reggie could puzzle together what this meeting was supposed to be about. Or rather, would be about.

But maybe more money would be involved. That potential was not at all lost on him. ]

Yeah. Dunno what that's about, but I'm not up this way that often. [ His jaw tightened, fingers drumming idly on the tabletop for a moment, then he continued: ] So, you are...?

[enigmaestro]

I would prefer to remain enigmatic. [Somehow committed in deadpan -- he had signed the letter, after all -- but the exchange was a strict reminder that Edward Nygma was not a people person.] The focus between us is actually someone else entirely, Mr. Mantle, I suppose you've heard of Ramir? Ah -- Ana Ramir, but she rarely alludes to her first name.

[Here's where the thousand dollar gamble was likely to pay off: Eddie had chosen Reggie specifically because of his age range and, because upon what he could determine from the Network, his preference for brash young women. There was something self-destructive about that affinity, but Eddie recognized that he wasn't really in a position to judge.

It was key that Reggie knew Ramir, at least superficially.]

[mantlepieces]

[ The question made Reggie raise his eyebrow; yes, he did know Ramir. What did she have to do with this? Especially to the tune of a thousand dollars worth... Reggie might find the witty moniker a little eye-rolly for his tastes, but this guy certainly was determined to live up to the name. ]

Yeah, I know her. Pretty good, I guess -- she's all right. [ His eyes narrowed slightly, as if to compel Eddie to get to the point. ] What about her? You're not tryin' to hire me to kill her, are you?

[enigmaestro]

Oh, really, as if you could murder her.

[Eddie tutted, chastising Reggie for making such assumptions. But the chiding was brief -- after all, the Gothamite had plans to unravel and he hadn't much time to do it.]

Look, she is a very promising individual. But her talents require a sort of, hrm, theatrical stimulation that not everyone can provide. That is why I'm contacting you, Mr. Mantle, I think you have something of a flair about you.

[He flipped his hand at the wrist, perhaps trying to encapsulate Reggie's flair with a gesture.]

Am I incorrect?

[mantlepieces]

[ Things only felt like they were getting less and less clear to Reggie, but he nodded slowly anyway. Easy enough question, even if the reason for it still wasn't obvious. Theatrical stimulation? Was that just a pretentious way to say drama queen, or--?

His own relationship with Ramir was casual enough that he didn't necessarily know every side to her, nor did he really care to (though that went for almost anyone). Mostly he knew her as someone to engage in high-energy banter and flirt with, neither of which Reggie would guess qualify for what he's being asked -- well, not asked -- of now. ]

No, that's right. I mean, I took drama. [ Almost without thinking, that statement was accompanied by a flip of his bangs. ] What exactly's this "flair" entail? And is there more money attached?

[enigmaestro]

You took drama. That's darling. [If only they weren't in a library, then Eddie could have thrown back his head to cackle. If ever an exhibition of flair was needed...] Yes, there is money involved. A substantial amount, something well worth your while. I intend to dole it out, over a period of time, in worthwhile increments.

[But...]

I want you to commit to a long term sort of project, Mr. Mantle. Ramir has dipped her toes into a sort of vigilante role, and she needs to continue that. But every hero, or villain as she may become, requires an antagonist.

[He leveled a look, scouring Reggie's face to see if the younger man understood.]

She needs someone to egg her onwards.

[mantlepieces]

It's not--

[ Not darling was what Reggie was about to object to, bristling from being patronized, but he cooled off quickly as Eddie went on. Frowning, Reggie crossed his arms to lean them on the table in front of him, and then simply listened.

But even listening didn't clear things up completely -- the "project" being offered was simply too weird to click for Reggie, at least immediately. He got the idea but he didn't get why. Or even all the nuances of the "what." ]

You're telling me she's like a superhero or something? Once of those weirdos who actually believes in that stuff? [ His eyebrow quirked, climbing upward. ] I mean, I'll gladly take money to antagonize someone, but what's it to you in the first place? Don't think I got that part yet.

[enigmaestro]

I'm not sure that I would say superhero, no. [He phrased it as delicately as he could.] But she needs some mental stimulation, someone who could cajole her into greater ambitions. And -- to answer your needlessly invasive question, what it means to me is something of a legacy.

[Eddie leaned over the table, his elbows apart and his hands folded together.]

I have lost a lot of people, Mr. Mantle. I have been here for a long time and I have lost practically everyone, I have lost my status and influence and I have lost the world I had known prior to this one but after my original world.

[He had lost his own antagonist. He knew what Ramir needed -- or he thought he did.]

I just want her to have continual meaning.

[mantlepieces]

[ That was... a lot, and though money was always welcome Reggie was already reflexively tempted to tell this guy to forget it. Pressure, responsibility, expectations? Why should he agree to all that now just because there was a price tag involved?

... That was easy to answer, though. Because it was money and Reggie loved money, and pressure or not, he couldn't help but appreciate the attention and recognition. He shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat. ]

Look, if you want me involved then I think I'm owed a little context.

[ His eyebrow twitched upward slightly when Eddie mentioned loss, but otherwise his poker face remained more or less fixed. ]

Sounds real rough. [ Reggie's tone was so flat it almost sounded dead. ] I still don't get how this is supposed to help, but y'know, whatever -- if I'm being paid, what do I care? Doubt I'll ever get why people are so obsessed with treating people here like their family.

[enigmaestro]

Of course you wouldn't get it. [Eddie was quick to dismiss the young man -- he had been called narcissistic enough to know when someone else exhibited similar behaviors. However, in Eddie's case, the man was old enough to appreciate a little compromise when it needed to be made. Ramir was that compromise.] Your goal is to make sure she doesn't get complacent. Challenge her, taunt her, force her into being something greater.

[It was the best inheritance that Eddie could conjure.]

And for your troubles you'll get $90,000. Measured out in increments, of course, I had to spend some additional to ensure the security of your loyalty.

Is the crystal clear enough?

[mantlepieces]

[ The blatant dismissal earned Eddie a disdainful, sour look, but once the number 90,000 was dropped into a sentence Reggie decided it wasn't a savage enough insult to merit not keeping his mouth shut. Too bad it wasn't a lump sum, but honestly, Eddie had the right idea assuming Reggie would just take the money and run if given the choice. Who works for things when they don't have to?

Still, he did roll his eyes before finally answering again: ]

Like glass -- I'll see what I can do. I get to call the shot though, right? I mean, no scripts or performance reviews or any crap like that? Better I have the creative freedom to really do things right.

[enigmaestro]

You may call the shot, yes. I won't be here to direct the detail, after all, and I think you get the idea of it.

[At this point, Eddie could only hope for the best. He cocked his head to the side, his chin jutting out, a faint smirk coloring his lips. Could be worse, he reasoned. Reggie Mantle had potential.]

We will leave it at that, Mr. Mantle.

[Taking a stand from his chair, Eddie soon withdrew an envelope from his inner blazer pocket. He set it on the table and, with two fingers, pushed it to Reggie.]

Further instruction, barebones and interpretive. Just do what I ask. There is also the account information where the money will be transferred to, there's everything inherent that you will need to access it.

This is the last time you will see me, Mr. Mantle, so I wish you well. [Eddie strode past the young man, his eyes on the door.] And, if ever you are in doubt about what I want you to do, remember: art has a logic to it. In its middle is to consume, its beginning the first of a sob, an act beginning with a particle.

[A parting riddle.]