Owner	Pose
Edward Nygma	It has been a few days since the Riddler made his clever escape from Arkham, which means it also has been a few days since his fateful encounter with Ra's Al-Ghul. An encounter that, the more he considered it, the more he found himself finding new layers and angles to consider. A position he doesn't normally find himself in, examining someone else's puzzle. And he can't say he much cares for it.     And then there was the other factor of the evening: the snake-woman who tried to sneak out without a sign--suppose it would be best to say slither--but had her own encounter with Al-Guhl's henchmen. Eddie never got to speak with her, partially because he felt the need to get out of there in a hurry. Still, another angle unexplored. And Eddie doesn't like it when a piece of a puzzle is missing.     Thus he put his thugs to work; sending out his own henchmen to try to find the 'snakewoman', a description that even within Gotham's interesting citizenry is fairly unique. Thus they made it clear to anyone that they could find that the Riddler would very much like an audience with this unknown woman, even inviting her to his inner sanctum, the puzzle warehouse. Of course, it would need to be escorted and blindfolded. And if she doesn't come willingly...well, there are plenty of other ways to get her to come. Hopefully it won't come to that.
Sibilance	She does come willingly. When thugs make an offer non-violently -- and she can tell she isn't going to be harmed by their surface thoughts -- Sibilance finds herself equally intrigued by the oddity of it. Usually when people want to capture her it's to sell her on some kind of black market or because they wanna do worse things. She's lived on the streets long enough to know what such minds sound like.     She ends up walked into the warehouse and she's sat down in a chair. She isn't in her heavier disguise, instead she's wearing a pair of pajama pants because she was caught off-guard while out poking around her home to make sure all the routes into the place were sealed up. Thankfully no one saw her come out, but it made the ride over pretty awkward. She is, head to toe, an anthropomorphic snake. She has colorations akin to a diamondback rattlesnake. She possesses no female features on her upper body and even, strangely, lacks a belly button. The lack of upper body clothing suggests that taking her unwillingly would require very creative solutions, or he would lose far too many underlings to be worth it.     The blindfold is pulled off of her face and her hands clasp in her lap. She seems very calm for someone brought to the lair of one of the most infamous people in Gotham.     "This is very theatrical," she points out, in her soft Mexican Spanish accent.
Edward Nygma	As the blindfold is removed, the Riddler's current project is revealed to Sibilance: a giant rubik's cube, nearly three stories tall, with each side of the face having a five-by-five outline. Currently the puzzle is solved, with a giant question mark staring down at the guest. A moment later a familiar face steps out from behind the cube, a twirling around his cane and looking up at his handywork, a look of quiet admiration. He then glances towards Sibilance and raise a brow.     "Riddle me this: how do most people react when they see a snake in a bar?" he asks as he approaches, his cane clicking the ground as he approaches, though from his even confident stride, and the fact he was gesticulating with it, it is clear that he is simply using it for flare. Before giving the guest much time to consider the question before he delights in giving his punny answer: "They recoil." He cants his head. "But not all. Some of us take interest. Because seeing something you've never seen before deserve your attention. But it also raises questions." His smile broadens at this point. "Luckily for us both, I love questions."
Sibilance	Sibilance's mind catches up to what she's looking at. She tilts back in her seat somewhat to look up at it with her mouth cracking open. "How..." 'How would they even move the components' was the first thing that came to mind, but she realizes the Riddler is right there, and he's talking to her. She closes her mouth and looks at him with a golden gaze. She seems pretty surprised by his interest at first, at least until he makes a coiling joke. Because she's a snake.     Her brow creases and she breathes a little sigh. Yeah, she got it.     She spreads out her arms and says, "Ta-da. I'm here. I don't mind questions." Playing up her theatrical comment a little, her hairless brows lifted and a smile creasing her mouth. "You may call me Sibilance." That is, the person on that single news report that allegedly just 'commanded' people into giving her things at various gardening stores. If he kept up on his news reports...     Her hands rest on her thighs and she makes eye contact with the Riddler. She smiles at him purely because this is quite a cartoonish situation for her, and actually a relief compared to some of the bloody circumstances and stressful decisions of before. More than anything else, she's waiting to be asked whatever he's looking to ask. She doesn't presume to know what he's looking to know, since that might be offensive to an intellectual.
Edward Nygma	The Riddler cants his head to one side. "Sibilance," he repeats, trying the word around, perhaps accentuating those Ses more than he needs to. "Of course you know me, the most brilliant man in Gotham, E. Nygma, also known as the Riddler." He takes a deep bow before straightening up and looking behind him at the cube, then back towards her. "Impressive, isn't it? Still in prototype, important to get the mechanisms correct before we even run a test. But the design is sound," he assures, as if talking to an investor.     He clear his throat, twirling his cane again, acting almost as if it is functioning as a fidget for him. He then glances towards her, approaching and smiling nearly ear to ear. "Of course you aren't here just to admire my toys. I welcomed you here to help clear some things up for me, Sibilance. First and foremost: whose side are you on?"
Sibilance	Sibil spends some time appreciating the incredible work that sits in front of her. Inarguably the work of a madman that will be used to terrorize the people of the world that choose to protect the innocent, but something with an appreciable beauty. She looks away from it and back to the Riddler as he prepares to pose his first question for her. Her eyes distractedly fall on the cane that he continually fidgets with.     "I'm on my own side, like most people seem to be," she replies, frankly, but elaborates for his sake, "I've yet to vow any loyalty to SHIELD, or any League, or..." She makes a vague circular gesture to indicate 'and so on,' and continues. "Seems like an unusual question to lead with, Riddler. Some of the people that are your natural enemies would never tell you they are to your face, or their behavior and method of dress would make that status self-evident. Where is that coming from?" She isn't being vague or cryptic with him, she just has some honest skepticism with the inquiry as a whole.
Edward Nygma	Riddler's mouth twitches at the response, especially at the mention of the League. He reaches up and rubs at his jaw before laughing a bit. "Sorry, a quick memory," he muses before he starts to pace again. "And of course you wouldn't be forthright if you were working for one of my rivals, or worse, the Bat." He shudders slightly simply at the name before glaring down at Sibil, clutching the head of his cane forcefully. "But it is always polite to ask first." He smiles widely. "Which leads me to my second question, what did you make of our bearded friend at the bar the other day?" He rolls his hands as he asks. "You see, there is something about his pitch that...intrigues me. But he is also clearly trying to get at something by flattering me." He moves forward. "So I wanted another pair of eyes and ears and rattles to help me sort it all out."
Sibilance	Sibil smiles at the Riddler, nodding in agreement. It IS polite to ask. She listens with some interest in the notion of what the Head of the Dragon was discussing with the Riddler. She tilts her head and gives a thoughtful look, slowly panning her gaze around the room, where she can't identify their exact location, but it's clear she may still be in Gotham. Not really pinpointing anything, though.     "I think he is very old, and I think he is very full of himself, and I think he wants to use you like a chess piece in a game that he has been playing for a very long time and he's trying to leverage your ego against you to ensure your compliance," she tells the Riddler, with an unusually flat, blunt tone of voice. "He is a man that has lived to become ambition itself, that is what impression he gives me, and that's dangerous for you and for what you want out of the world. You are not actually as important as what part you play for him, for what he feels is important."     She rattles her tail a few times, and concludes with a sigh in her tone at the start, "Maybe what he wants isn't that bad. I couldn't say what that is, not without digging deeper."
Edward Nygma	The Riddler nods at most of that, his eyes twitching behind his mask at the comment about him not being important; the context was picked up, but hearing the words cause him to twitch involuntarily. He is very important. He knows this. Knows it. "We see and heard the same thing then. Though of course the game, ah, the game is in knowing if that is what we were meant to hear." He taps his temple. "You see, the very nature of a man like Al-Ghul is he gives you one face, and has ten more. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, but the question is--the REAL question is--can I use him before he is using me?" He paces away from Sibil, resting his chin in his hand. "Questions questions, almost too many to stand." He snaps his cane against the grond sharply before twisting back towards his guest. "But for tonight, there is just one more question: when this city is burning to the ground, and make no mistake it will soon and very soon, when that day comes, my dear Sibilance, are you going to stand your ground or slither off to a new hole?" He grins. "Riddle me this: when you are snake with two legs, do you stand for something or simply crawl away?"
Sibilance	Sibilance largely discards the idea of directly mentioning her mind reading ability and how she can pick up on subtler nuances here. The derangement in the person she talks to makes her eyes half-lid, recognizing a desire to be ... well, recognized. She empathizes, so it doesn't bother her at all. She smiles awkwardly at the notion of Ra's al-Ghul being quite that manipulative, which worries her severely. She recalls, in that moment, that she hadn't heard anything about a League of Assassins from him in that whole conversation. No, nothing but nostalgic memories of ancient places that will never look the same. "I will shelter as many as I can from the storm, and do everything I can to make people feel safe," she tells the Riddler. "I am not a hero. I just understand what it's like to be stomped on by circumstances beyond anyone's control. If anyone comes to stop me from protecting what little innocence I can find in the embers, I will kill them." "I..." she knits her brow, "I'm getting tired of running."
Edward Nygma	The answer actually gives Eddie pause. "Innocents," he says, clutching his cane. Memories come flooding back. The bullies, his own abusive father. Trampled down. A need to prove himself better, finding it in the confines of his genius intellect. He snorts slightly. "Save what innocents you can find. For now I'm done with you." He looks up towards the two goons who brought Sibil, nodding his head and turning sharply, his head now flooding with unpleasant past lives. The blindfold is soon re-applied, the woman led out, not roughly but insistently. "Find your innocents," the Riddler calls out as he walks in the other direction. "Because I don't know when or how the fire is coming. But it is coming fast." He clicks the cane against the ground. "Make no mistake, it is coming like a feight train." With that, he retires to the backroom to be alone in his thoughts.