Issue #30

[mistconduct]

[Private to Barbara Gordon]

How do you take this shit, Barb? How the fuck do you keep going?


[Private to Infirmary Staff]

So what's the plan, Docs? I'm getting fucking bedsores. I want out.


[Private to Vesper]
Hey. Can we.

Look, pick up the phone. Just.

Can we talk?


[Later, public]

[He's still getting drugged every night, as much for his mental health as his physical. It's easier to get through the days when you're on a cocktail of anti-depressants.

This, however, has its disadvantages. Mainly that Chris is so exhausted that he sleeps through the night, unaware of his warden item beeping underneath the bed. The teddy bear - yes, his warden item is a slightly charred teddy - is recovered in the morning, still beeping, when Chris wakes up.

It's alarming, how he can go from sleepy and lackadaisical to fucking pissed in a single instant]


Who the FUCK killed Slevin?!

You assholes, I swear to FUCKING god, I will fucking come out of this bed and murder the shit out of you! Where the fuck is my inmate and who the fuck is responsible for this bullshit?! You think just because I'm in the infirmary doesn't mean I won't come there and murder you back, you utter shithead?!

Fuck. Someone get me a fucking wheelchair, or crutches, or whatever. Who saw him last?!

Jesus christ, you're a fucking pack of animals!


[After Slevin's been found]

Call off the search, his body turned up in the inmate showers.

Whoever did this; you're fucking dead. You hear me? You can't fucking run on a ship, dumbass. I'm coming for you.

Fuck everything.

Comments

[mistconduct]

He's going to hate me for this. If one of my fucking enemies did this I'm going to freak out.

[routemistress]

What were you meant to do about it from the sickbay? It's not like any of us saw this coming.

[mistconduct]

God damn it, I thought we KNEW all the psychopaths on board.

[private]

[routemistress]

Well, counting out Victor and Alpha - doesn't seem like Elena's style and I think she shot 'er bolt already.

Anyone know where Esther was when it 'appened?

[private]

[mistconduct]

Esther? The fucking..what, the eight year old? Her?

[private]

[routemistress]

She's 'ere for a reason. And I know she's small, but so am I. So's Rorschach. That just puts folk off their guard.

...though probably not Slevin, I think 'e'd know better.

[private]

[mistconduct]

Slevin is a bit of an ass, but he's just misguided. He didn't..

Iris, he didn't deserve any of this. He acts like he has all his shit together, but this is so fucked up, he shouldn't have, he never DID anything that deserved this! He's just a guy who fucks with the mob, like me!

[private]

[routemistress]

No one deserves this. Not really.

...Did I just 'ear Megamind say 'e found 'im?

[private]

[mistconduct]

Yeah. He's being brought up to the infirmary now.

He's a fucking gore fest.

[private]

[routemistress]

Right. I'm 'eading back up, then.

[And aside:]

...You coming, Mister Dent?

[spam]

[halftheman]

[ Harvey's voice is audible over Iris's communicator ]

Don't think that's the best idea.

[spam]

[mistconduct]

It's gross. You don't want to see it.

[spam]

[halftheman]

Yeah, actually, I do.

[ So he's coming with. Lucky Chris and Iris. ]

[spam]

[mistconduct]

Dude, it's not a fucking snuff film. Piss off.

[spam]

[halftheman]

For once, this isn't about you, D'amico.

'sides, we're nearly there.

[spam]

[mistconduct]

I never said it was about me!

[spam]

[halftheman]

[ Half-heard, to Iris: ]

You're gonna sit on him when we get there, right?

[spam]

[routemistress]

Chris, calm your tits; neither of 'im did this and one of 'im knows investigating.

[Aside.]

...If I 'ave to, aye.

[spam]

[mistconduct]

No one is fucking sitting on me.

[spam]

[halftheman]

Wouldn't be the first time I hit the morgue working cases.

[ God it's so easy to find himself in the patter, to remember what it was like to investigate, plan to prosecute. Go down, spend time with a body, stoke the rage in his heart till it was the retributive fire ready to sear at Gotham's dark underbelly. ]

Doubt it'll be very useful here, though. Not exactly prosecuting anyone.

[ Lower, but still audible: ] You really want my expertise? Cause that's like asking the suspect to investigate. I'm not a warden, or even a trustworthy source, given history.

[spam]

[routemistress]

[Iris knows that look; the warhorse back in the game, and it makes her smile and squeeze his arm in brief affection.]

Aye, I do. We all know you didn't do this and you've spent too long sitting 'round doing nowt useful. It's bad for you.

[spam]

[halftheman]

[ His fingers twitched, before he put his hand in his pocket and drew out his coin. ]

Guess we'll see.

[spam]

[routemistress]

...Don't make me shoot you before we even get started, you great plonker.

[Oh, put it away.]

[spam]

[halftheman]

Not up to me. We have to have consensus, or we deadlock.

[ And he might be negotiating now. ]

[spam]

[routemistress]

...Fine. I've worked with worse. Maybe.

[She watches with interest. Her staser's in easy reach, if it comes to it; though Iris suspects even if the dodgy one comes out on top this time, he's not actually that likely to lunge for her like a rabid animal.

Probably. Whatever. She'll deal.]