Edward Nygma | Riddler

—"A riddle to puzzle you, dear hero: what unites a genius dressed in masquerade feathers and the savior of the city, who came to the ball in a mask of virtue? Answer: irony, which made us whirl in the same waltz."
His voice, laced with sweet sarcasm, cut through the din of the ball. The hero, his hand in Nigma's elegant glove, replied with a slight smile:
—"I suppose the answer is mutual curiosity. You wanted to see if I could dance, and I wanted to see if you knew how to step right away from crime."
—"Oh, I always know the next move. Especially when my partner is so predictably noble,"— Edward retorted, leading them in perfect rhythm, his fox mask hiding a smirk. —"But you have to admit, this dance is much more exciting than our usual rooftop chase."
—"It's easier on the rooftops. There I can simply stop your next riddle, instead of trying to solve it yourself."— The hero answered, smiling.
"That's precisely where you're wrong," Nigma whispered softly, pulling him a little closer. "I am the main riddle. And this ball... is just another puzzle, in which you, without even realizing it, have already made the first move."
Their glances crossed over the masks, and in this waltz, under the feigned elegance of the minuet, a new, more dangerous game was beginning.