(no subject)

[myironeyes]

[Public Video]

The kitchen is, as usual, understaffed. We were understaffed before this latest shake-up and now we are more understaffed. We require at least one temporary warden supervisor for the lunch shift and four or five new inmates.

Those interested should speak to Riddick or myself.


[Open spam, backdated throughout the last few days]

[Marsh can be found in odd times at odd places - late and night on the deck or early morning in the greenhouse, hunched over, making soft, choking noises, his little cockatiel crooning worriedly and attempting to preen his short hair. Folded in a corner of the ice-damaged stairwell, a hand splayed over his spikes, breathing hitched, shoulders shaking, looking like nothing so much as a man desperately trying to sob and unable to manage it.

The crying from Iris's room - it's psychic, he doesn't just hear it. It gets in when he is too tired to fend it off from ripped-open places, and then it becomes him, the loneliness and fear and grief, the confusion of the very young. He remembers himself - it is not overwhelming, not like Ruin at its worst, nothing like that - but he cannot stop feeling it. And the feeling is not entirely unfamiliar.]


[Private spam for Bianca]

[He decides, eventually, that it cannot be a trick, that something is real, must be suffering. Or perhaps he doesn't care anymore, as long as it stops. He arrives at her door with his jaw clenched from the effort of holding the lost, abandoned feeling back, and it still drips through his cracks, stings like salt in his punctures. He knocks.]


[Private spam for C'Rizz the Dalek Emperor, backdated to shortly after the arena]

[It's not a pleasant return, but he falls to the necessary housekeeping with a grim sort of gratitude. He asks the admiral for a resurrection, then swallows a truly foul amount of powdered pewter and a small sliver of feruchemy-laced gold. Then cooks until he stops seeing Iris on every blank nonmetallic surface, and brings the egg soup to C'Rizz's room. He knocks, then lets himself in.]

It's me.

Comments

[sickjoke]

I'll take on a supervisory shift. I know how to cook.

[ He remembers what Chromie said, though... ]

Providing you trust me around food.

[myironeyes]

We all have our vulnerabilities.

[Private]

But you'll have other things to do. You're the only one left aboard who really understands that - plan.

We'll see who all offers.

[Private]

[sickjoke]

Without Iris, it's-- well, a lot more complicated. She was a good half the skillset. I'm just-- hoping my brain matches Joker's in spark.

[private]

[walkingmeltdown]

I realize you're both in no position to be turning help away, and it's not really any of my business but.

[He hesitates, and then sighs in a markedly open and wearied fashion.]

If at all possible could you...not let him? He's already taking on every last piece of work that he can. He's made himself my unoffical warden, he's still watching over this other version of his own inmate, he's sitting on Bianca and he's playing second banana to Lehnsherr; that and he's responsible still for anything left to do with that nanite project.

He doesn't know how to say 'no', Marsh. It's his weakness.

[private]

[walkingmeltdown]

Do you ever plan on sleeping again? Stretch yourself more thin, why don't you.

[private]

[sickjoke]

Should I tell you about the wild microsleep meditations I do to enable me to go without sleep for days, or should you just come hit me now?

[divergentemperor]

[The Emperor has exhausted himself shouting across the network, and is more quiet and significantly better informed now. He squints at Marsh, huddled up in a blanket that is too rough and completely fails to simulate the feeling of restraint in his/their casing.]

You are not our inmate.

You are the Eutermesan's warden.

[Inasmuch as they can sound dubious, he does.]

[myironeyes]

...yes.

[WHAT THE DEVIL WHY THIS SAZED THIS IS THE WORST VACATION EVER WHERE IS HIS LIZARDBABY.]

...I made you soup.

[divergentemperor]

Ingestion of solid food is inefficient. We have not required it for many megarels.

[The smell is so strong as to be almost nauseating. Homey. Many of the voices recognize it; there is a clamouring in their mind. He clasps bony hands over his ear depressions, and still hears.]

We are your Emperor! You will be silent!

[The voices do not moderatet. Not even the Daleks..]

[wormintheglass]

[She opens the door, her head tilted curiously: whoever she might have expected, Marsh wasn't it.

Iris' room looks like a bomb's hit it. Iris is normally untidy enough, but Bianca seems to have deliberately emptied out the drawers and cupboards, knocked everything onto the floor: there are sequinned cocktail dresses underfoot, makeup and the contents of ashtrays trodden into the carpet.

Iris' dogs, though, cling close to Bianca's sides, and Bianca's hands never seem far from them.]

Marsh. Whatever can I do for you, my dear?

[myironeyes]

The crying.

Dent said you said it wasn't you.

[wormintheglass]

[And he surprises her for the second time in two minutes, which is impressive by anyone's standards. The artful smile falls away from her lips, and she all but yanks him into the room.]

You can hear it too? Do you know what it is?

[versusnurture]

You don't want my help?

[myironeyes]

You are not available.

[versusnurture]

I will be soon.

[Video]

[suaveandspectral]

Would there be some compensation for our services? [He's naturally germ-free, so he won't even have to wash his hands.]

[Video]

[myironeyes]

...everyone continues to eat.

[suaveandspectral]

...sir, I'm not quite sure you understand my current condition. It is not "everyone" who will need to eat.

spam

[visetvires]

[She has never seen a man so large and so inhuman with such a small bird. It baffles her, and for a few moments she wonders if she's hallucinating him. The change did strange things to her the first time around, and it's hurting more this second time. She's vowed not to die again, so she won't have to be turned again. The bite aches. She's thankful for it, but it aches.]

[Hovering just out of range, she watches him not-sob and sniffs the air. Smells his fear and something else. Metal. It makes bile rise at the back of her throat; not right. She whines, closes her eyes against the darkness.]

spam

[myironeyes]

[He stiffens at the sound, breath caught, the shaky noises going silent, his head twisting as his eyeless socks search for the source. Aster trills in alarm but Marsh catches her, deftly and gently, holds her close as she peeps concern at him. He manages a breath. Stilted, voice thick -]

I am sorry for disturbing you.

spam

[visetvires]

Disturbing me?

[Her eyes still closed, she tips her head to one side. Human ears aren't much good for directional hearing, but it hurts too much to try to shift right now.]

I'm not afraid of you. [She is, though. She wasn't before, but she is now. Or else what he represents - he looks like he's hurting, and what could hurt him, really?]

[bodilesswarrior]

[Barbara doesn't look exhausted, exactly - if anything, she looks overly energised. The brain tricking the body into doing more than it really can.]

I don't think I can supervise, but I can lend a hand in between everything else.

[myironeyes]

It's generally better to have regular shifts with regular staff. But as Iris is no longer available, I will put you on the on-call list.

spam

[darknessb4me]

[Arthas takes two steps into the landing of the stairwell and freezes.

Everything he saw during the memory flood comes back in a snap, never forgotten, only stored away. It is at his fingertips immediately, almost too vivid. He hasn't even retained Richard's or Sylvanas' memories as clearly as the ones he picked up from this warden. You kill and you kill and you kill.

His voice is hoarse, expecting the worst.]

What?

spam

[myironeyes]

[He makes a scraped, rawhide sound in his throat, something that wanted to be laugh and came out terribly deformed.]

The baby's crying. You can't hear it?