mayfield_logs | After-School Special

Who: The Riddler and Schuldig
What: Some long overdue catching up
Where: Mayfield High
When: Afternoon of Monday, January 23rd, 195X
Warnings: None I can think of? But knowing the two of them, the conversation could take some dark turns.

[Another day, another droning. That's how things always seem to go.

It's not a subject that the Riddler's particularly fond of, but it's one that's plaguing him nearly all day. He's seated behind his desk, fiddling with something mundane while the students of his Ethics class busy themselves with an impromptu in-class essay. Anything to try and get his mind off of...

Wait. The mind. That could be the answer he needs right now.]

Schuldig.

[He doesn't speak the name aloud. Rather, he thinks it. Truth be told, mental conversation still isn't Edward's preferred method of getting into contact with Schuldig. They've had them from time to time in the past, and every once in a while in the fall, Edward had attempted a mental prodding or two as a way of testing whether or not the so-called "Mastermind" was still droned. (Although for all he knew, Schuldig could have just been ignoring him, leading Edward to cease that sort of action altogether.)

But life isn't always convenient. Edward's in the middle of class, can't exactly step out to use the phones, and for that matter? He doesn't really trust the phones for this sort of thing. The last thing he needs is a filtered call turned to failure. Sighing lowly, Edward tries again.]

Schuldig. Are you hearing this?

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[There's a brief pause, which is in fact Schuldig's surprise. He hasn't yet gotten back in contact with Edward since his droning and the years - from his perspective - that passed in between. So either Edward knows he's back, through mysterious processes, or he's doing this simply as some sort of periodic test...and may even have done it before.

It's rather intriguing, underneath the surprise. Perhaps even flattering. One might almost think he'd been missed.

Then, finally, Edward gets his response.]

Didn't we have this conversation before, Edward? Of course I'm hearing it.

[His eyes go a bit wide at that obnoxious drawl in the back of his head. He's not sure whether he should feel relieved or irritated at the sound of Schuldig's voice. Par for the course.

It doesn't take him long to compose his thoughts, though, and he replies to Schuldig once again.]

Then I'm sure you're already aware of what's on my mind. [A pause, then:] Let's talk.

Hah. It'd be harder to say what isn't. You've let the place grow cluttered in my absence, Nigma. It's like navigating an attic.

[It's purely casual banter, meant to mildly irritate Edward and settle himself back into the strange relationship he and the Riddler have always had; he's more than a little surprised in the doing so to find that he's missed it, that he returns to the mindset like slipping into a comfortably familiar groove.]

I suppose it doesn't really count as a house call if you're at work, does it? Otherwise I'd think you were taking advantage of my good nature.

[Schuldig had simply been idly prowling the streets of Mayfield, re-familiarizing himself with the place and picking out the new minds from the ones he still remembers, but already he's started wandering - in a rather direct line - toward the school.]

Perish the thought.

[Schuldig's ribbing isn't without its usual bite, but for once it isn't even bothering him all that much. Strangely enough, it's been a somewhat empty month or so without the German's needling. He leans back in his seat, idly drumming his fingers against the desk.]

I'll be off duty in twenty minutes. You know where to find me.

Don't I always?

[Schuldig is actually there before Edward's last class ends, though he bides his time out in the hallway until the students have cleared out before sliding into the room. He strolls over to the desk, seemingly in no hurry despite the fact that he obviously didn't take much time getting here.] Hey.

[And here's Schuldig, in the flesh. Not droned, for a change, and still the same as ever. So Edward thinks, anyway---he's still yet to learn of what's happened to the telepath while he was away.

Could he walk any slower? They really don't have time to waste on pleasantries.]

Have a seat.

[He motions to one of the chairs in the row just in front of his desk, but Schuldig pretty much knows the drill by now. To date, they've had several key meetings in this very classroom, neither of which are meetings that the Riddler's particularly keen on thinking about. And who knows how this one will end...?]

[Schuldig hooked a chair with one hand, dragging it across the floor - deliberately noisily - before spinning it before Edward's desk to face backwards, so that he could sit on it with his arms folded over the back. At times he almost seemed allergic to convention.]

So is now when you organize your thoughts for me, or am I expected to pick them out of your mind in the jumbled mess that they are? [There was a reason Schuldig didn't simply lift everything he needed to know from people's minds - it could be considerably more difficult than having them laid out verbally.] And for people who don't have time to waste, you could've assumed I'd make myself comfortable and just started talking.

[He glares. As far as wasting time is concerned, Schuldig doesn't waste any in irritating Edward.]

You've heard the phone call, haven't you? From earlier today.

Even if I hadn't heard it myself, I'd know about it from someone who did. [He tilts his head.] I assume you're going to do something about it, but what do you want my input for?

We're partners, aren't we? [Much to Lex's chagrin.] Despite the fact that I could host a conversation with you in the very back of my mind if I really wanted to, communication hasn't exactly been our strongest suit this fall. Has it?

I've been busy. [This hardly covers it, but Schuldig doubts Edward would even care about the truth. He's not even sure Edward is remotely aware of the fact that he'd been gone, so much as he knew that Schuldig wasn't responding to his mental inquiries.]

As for us being partners, we both know that's an honorary title at best. No one else in the Legion would recognize my authority unless I mindjacked them into it, and this is the first time you've actually asked for my input on anything. And, let's face it - if you don't like what I'm going to say, you won't go along with it. We're not partners; at best, I'm a convenient resource you take from when you need me and ignore when you don't. [He seems oddly dismissive of the matter, as though he doesn't really care less.] So rather than deceive ourselves on that point, why don't you actually get around to telling me what it is you want?

What I want, Schuldig, is to expand that title of yours.

[There's a meaningful pause. Seemingly as if to allow Schuldig a chance to see all the cards in Edward's hand just before he plays them. But then, he continues.]

Don't believe me? Here's a question for you. Who in this cancerous cul-de-sac could be considered one of the most capable dealers of information? Who's proven to be quite the useful ally? Who could be considered one of Mayfield's most devious masterminds?

Aside from myself, of course.

[Oh, Schuldig recognizes shameless flattery when he receives it. Which isn't to say that he objects in the least, even if Edward just had to slip his own conceit in at the end. It's not as though Schuldig wouldn't have done the exact same in his place, though, so he can sympathize.

He smirks.] And here I thought you didn't like questions to which the answer everyone already knows.

Consider this an exception.

[Schuldig is, despite himself, intrigued.] So what are you proposing, anyway? I realize speaking in answers rather than questions is foreign to you, but make an effort. You always get so damned indignant when I go and find them for myself...

After-School Special

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