buywithme | 162 - hand on heart. heart still in jar. prognosis: Bad.

Ah-- I'm sorry I've not had a chance to make this announcement sooner, Comrades. Things have been... well, I'm sure you all know how things have been.

[Prefect's voice is a little raw right now, he's sitting on his bed, which is pushed up against the concrete wall of his cabin.]

I've been asked to act as interim warden for Edward Nygma until he's assigned someone permanently, so if there are any problems with his behavior, or if anyone has a problem with him that requires a wardens attention, then please let me know.

[He lifts a hand now, to rub it down over his eyes. He looks tired as hell.]

And-- I know after a port like that, this is probably a very foolish thing to ask, but Comrades, Brothers, Sisters... How are you all?

[The hand shifts around to cup on the back of his neck, and he stares at the communicator, his expression absent, if not unhappy.]

I know some people were able to help each other, while we were down there. Some people were just able to survive. There were a lot of things that I missed, or I couldn't focus on. So-- If anyone wants to talk about any of that, or... about anything at all? I'd be happy too.

Barron? Mr. Nygma? Please let me know how you're holding up?

[Private to Lua, maybe twenty minutes later]

WHY IS IT BACK IN MY ROOM?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It doesn't have to be in the pub, Comrade. I...

[Wait.]

Are you still interested in having that dinner you asked me for?

You threatened my shower privileges. My interest in doing anything with you has plummeted drastically.

I did gather all the things you asked for. Lobsters and things.

And your shower privileges remain under threat, Comrade. Either you can have the meal that you requested with me, and you can take as many showers as you want, or maybe you'll have to use the shared facilities like everyone else.

[....]

I'm under no obligation to talk to you during this dinner. You're aware of that, aren't you?

Actually, I seem to recall this dinner being the condition under which we would discuss establishing a new support system for you now that Mr. Profit is no longer with us.

I got the red wine you wanted as well.

How exactly did you derive that from 'I'll loosen my tongue'?

[Alright, he'll talk. But it doesn't have to be meaningful.]

In your absence, I re-discovered the only support system I need. I won't be accepting any alterations.

That was the subject I was trying to loosen your tongue over.

[Prefect will pry secrets out of him.]

We'll try additions then, Comrade. Will seven O'Clock be all right?

You had high hopes if that's how you interpreted it.

Ten. [Who is deliberately being difficult? Not Riddler. Certainly not.]

Underestimating people never inspired anyone.

Ten's fine. I'll see you later. [And he will be very, very tired indeed.

Spam?]

[Should have made it eleven.]

[Ten o'clock rolls around, and Edward is in his cabin, lounging on the couch with a small stack of newspapers in his lap.

Did Prefect mean him to drop by his cabin? Whoopsie daisy, if so.]

[Fortunately, Prefect owns his own steamer. At approximately quarter past ten, he knocks on Eddie's door, with a steamer full of still piping hot lobster, and a messenger bag containing tupperware, bottles, plates, glasses, and cutlery.]

[The door is always locked now, and there's a booby trap set up for those who attempt to break in. Eddie's no longer as lenient on security as he used to be.

It takes him several minutes to de-construct his trap and invite Prefect inside.]

Come in, Prefect. Find a spot on the couch.

[Prefect steps in, giving Edward a sidelong glance as he does so.]

Thank you, Brother. Do you mind if I put this down somewhere? [He gives the steamer a little heft, it's kind of heavy.]

[Eddie decided, right then, that he was going to play with Prefect as much as possible tonight.]

I do mind, very much. I have no vacant surface to offer. [He raises a hand for the messenger bag.] Hold that, and I'll get the cutlery set up.

Edited 2012-08-24 16:44 (UTC)

[Prefect frowns, but relinquishes the messenger bag and goes to sit on the couch where Eddie initially directed him, setting the steamer on his knees as he does so.]

How did you find the Port, brother? You seem to have come through it in one piece?

162 - hand on heart. heart still in jar. prognosis: Bad.

PrefectJacked

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