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

[buywithme]

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?

Comments

Private;

[buywithme]

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?

Private;

[insolubleriddle]

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

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

Private;

[buywithme]

Underestimating people never inspired anyone.

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

Spam?]

Spam;

[insolubleriddle]

[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.]

Spam;

[buywithme]

[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.]

Spam;

[insolubleriddle]

[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.

Spam;

[buywithme]

[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.]

Spam;

[insolubleriddle]

[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.

Spam;

[buywithme]

[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?