Marsh || Steel Inquisitor

[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.

[Spam in the infirmary, shortly after this thread.]

[Marsh arrives gingerly bearing an unconscious, injured Riddick. He has several damaged ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and possibly a conscussion. Marsh answers questions curtly and does not interfere with Infirmary staff, but nor does he allow himself to be sent any farther that a few feet from Riddick's bedside. He's angry and worried and agitated, not that anyone who didn't know him well would be able to see it among his usual scowls.]

We have reason to believe he is not in his right mind. Are there restraints available?

[OOC: open to Infirmary people, whether official or just hanging around there, and to anyone who knows about the fight and wants to check in on Marsh and Riddick before Zane's announcement.]


[Spam slightly later, near/after Zane's public query, for Riddick and then Ben]

[Riddick wakes up, ribs taped, his shoulder back in its socket and wrapped with an ice pack, wrists and ankles in metal cuffs, with Marsh looming attentive and still beside him.]


[Private to Iris]

[He's even more shut down than usual.]

Please come to the infirmary. Riddick appears to be one of those modified.

You can...help. Right?

[Please.]