So, he's being given the stage. Suddenly, that feels quite intimidating, the pressure even higher and greater than before without any interruptions. At least with Vrenille it was a conversation, so while the order was a bit muddled to start with it was broken up and somehow made easier with prompts to clarify along the way. Actually, for a brief moment the fear of undertaking this turns to a flash of anger--it was Vrenille who convinced him to tell Ed now, after all.
But it's not Vrenille's fault, it's Oswald's. And he's no fool--this is a confession that he owes to Ed, not one that will end well. If this is the start of the war again, then at least he can look it in the eye directly this time.
He shifts his weight a little, deciding not to prop himself against anything or sit as he works his tongue into his cheek and looks off to the side, fidgeting as he tries to decide how to begin speaking.
After a bit anxious shuffling, he stills, gives a slow, self-affirming nod, and exhales.
"When... you and I were working together in the mayor's office, you... informed me that you would do anything for me. On that night, hearing those words, I allowed myself to accept something I had been grappling and fighting off for quite some time. That I--" he falters, eyes closing for a moment as he shakes his head, unable to meet Ed's eyes back finding this all comparatively easier to say now than before, mostly because it's been spat back and forth between Oswald and Ed in the time he's from.
"That I was in love with you. And that night, I resolved to tell you as much. It was... not as simple a task as I had hoped, my fear delaying me in telling you. Until I decided to invite you to dinner one night. This would be a few days after your cut-off point. I had asked you to pick us up a bottle of wine for the occasion. And then... you didn't show. Not until morning, at any rate."
He pauses, swallows, gives another exhale which becomes one of his nervous little chuckles.
"I mean, I was beside myself thinking something terrible had happened. It was so unlike you, especially then-- You know, I even called the police and--"
He presses his teeth together, forcing himself back on track.
"Turns out you had met someone. That very evening. A woman named Isabella who bared the most uncanny resemblance to Miss. Kringle. Truly, very uncanny. And it transpired that the two of you had whittled the night away talking. You came to me the next morning to tell me you were in love."
The tip of Oswald's tongue sits between his teeth for a brief moment, eyes still averted, trying to concentrate on speaking and note looking at Ed's reactions before he pursed his lips in a mirthless smile.
"So. I did what I would be inclined to do at the time. Looking back on it now with the gift of experience and hindsight, I may have conducted myself differently. However, I cannot take it back now. I felt she was not right for you. That she would use and hurt you and--" a small grimace flashes across his face, then he sighs and drops his shoulders.
"I was jealous. Unwilling to let someone else have you. Unable to see you happy with anyone else. So, of course, I had her killed."
He pauses to swallow thickly.
"You figured it out, of course. First that it wasn't an accident and that it was me later. Initially you thought it was Butch and... Well. I was a coward. I allowed you to pursue that line of revenge uncorrected. But when you'd gathered all the pieces together, figured out what I'd done... Well."
At this point, he lifts his eyes, though it's a strange and contradictory kind of look--sort of unfocused, like he's both looking at and beyond Ed, seeing something very specific without looking at him.
"We all know what you're capable of. What he is capable of."
A slow blink, then he looks down once more.
"I won't lay out the details of what took place, but it was a brutal, grueling process. One I cannot even fault you for. It's no less than what I would do."
Well. Not entirely true, there are some lines Oswald wouldn't have crossed that Riddler skipped merrily over.
"In any case... This culminated in you taking me out to Gotham Pier, shooting me in the stomach, and tossing me over the edge into the river. It really left quite the impressive scar, if I do say so."
The mirthless smile on his face is stretched thin, a slight tremble has settled in his lips at this point, his voice is a little more strained in places.
"Well. Somehow, I did not die from that. And the convoluted details here can probably best be recounted by simply saying that we went through another round of conflict. And another.
"Anyway. Between Hugo Strange's freaks running around, a secret society trying to unleash a deadly version of the Tetch virus on the city, Gordon making a deal with you to trade me for Tetch--you had him at the time, you see--and then murdering Fish Mooney before--"
He takes a deep breath. Mooney's death still stings even now, no matter how flippant he tries to sound.
The moment of silence is drawn out quite long this time, Oswald's lowered eyes looking sad and tired before he gives a short, resigned huff through his nose and pulls himself together.
"At any rate, what I'm trying to say is it was a rather hectic time in Gotham, but the point that pertains to us is that you and I ended up back on that pier. And then, I had Victor Fries freeze you so I could make you the center piece of my club."
Slapping his arms against his sides, Oswald looks up at last, back as straight as he can make it, ready for the damage to begin.
no subject
But it's not Vrenille's fault, it's Oswald's. And he's no fool--this is a confession that he owes to Ed, not one that will end well. If this is the start of the war again, then at least he can look it in the eye directly this time.
He shifts his weight a little, deciding not to prop himself against anything or sit as he works his tongue into his cheek and looks off to the side, fidgeting as he tries to decide how to begin speaking.
After a bit anxious shuffling, he stills, gives a slow, self-affirming nod, and exhales.
"When... you and I were working together in the mayor's office, you... informed me that you would do anything for me. On that night, hearing those words, I allowed myself to accept something I had been grappling and fighting off for quite some time. That I--" he falters, eyes closing for a moment as he shakes his head, unable to meet Ed's eyes back finding this all comparatively easier to say now than before, mostly because it's been spat back and forth between Oswald and Ed in the time he's from.
"That I was in love with you. And that night, I resolved to tell you as much. It was... not as simple a task as I had hoped, my fear delaying me in telling you. Until I decided to invite you to dinner one night. This would be a few days after your cut-off point. I had asked you to pick us up a bottle of wine for the occasion. And then... you didn't show. Not until morning, at any rate."
He pauses, swallows, gives another exhale which becomes one of his nervous little chuckles.
"I mean, I was beside myself thinking something terrible had happened. It was so unlike you, especially then-- You know, I even called the police and--"
He presses his teeth together, forcing himself back on track.
"Turns out you had met someone. That very evening. A woman named Isabella who bared the most uncanny resemblance to Miss. Kringle. Truly, very uncanny. And it transpired that the two of you had whittled the night away talking. You came to me the next morning to tell me you were in love."
The tip of Oswald's tongue sits between his teeth for a brief moment, eyes still averted, trying to concentrate on speaking and note looking at Ed's reactions before he pursed his lips in a mirthless smile.
"So. I did what I would be inclined to do at the time. Looking back on it now with the gift of experience and hindsight, I may have conducted myself differently. However, I cannot take it back now. I felt she was not right for you. That she would use and hurt you and--" a small grimace flashes across his face, then he sighs and drops his shoulders.
"I was jealous. Unwilling to let someone else have you. Unable to see you happy with anyone else. So, of course, I had her killed."
He pauses to swallow thickly.
"You figured it out, of course. First that it wasn't an accident and that it was me later. Initially you thought it was Butch and... Well. I was a coward. I allowed you to pursue that line of revenge uncorrected. But when you'd gathered all the pieces together, figured out what I'd done... Well."
At this point, he lifts his eyes, though it's a strange and contradictory kind of look--sort of unfocused, like he's both looking at and beyond Ed, seeing something very specific without looking at him.
"We all know what you're capable of. What he is capable of."
A slow blink, then he looks down once more.
"I won't lay out the details of what took place, but it was a brutal, grueling process. One I cannot even fault you for. It's no less than what I would do."
Well. Not entirely true, there are some lines Oswald wouldn't have crossed that Riddler skipped merrily over.
"In any case... This culminated in you taking me out to Gotham Pier, shooting me in the stomach, and tossing me over the edge into the river. It really left quite the impressive scar, if I do say so."
The mirthless smile on his face is stretched thin, a slight tremble has settled in his lips at this point, his voice is a little more strained in places.
"Well. Somehow, I did not die from that. And the convoluted details here can probably best be recounted by simply saying that we went through another round of conflict. And another.
"Anyway. Between Hugo Strange's freaks running around, a secret society trying to unleash a deadly version of the Tetch virus on the city, Gordon making a deal with you to trade me for Tetch--you had him at the time, you see--and then murdering Fish Mooney before--"
He takes a deep breath. Mooney's death still stings even now, no matter how flippant he tries to sound.
The moment of silence is drawn out quite long this time, Oswald's lowered eyes looking sad and tired before he gives a short, resigned huff through his nose and pulls himself together.
"At any rate, what I'm trying to say is it was a rather hectic time in Gotham, but the point that pertains to us is that you and I ended up back on that pier. And then, I had Victor Fries freeze you so I could make you the center piece of my club."
Slapping his arms against his sides, Oswald looks up at last, back as straight as he can make it, ready for the damage to begin.
"Well. I think that just about covers it."