(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.

[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.]

[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?

[versusnurture]

You don't want my help?

[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.]

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.]

[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.

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?