Rooms

[The card is sent round to the residence of Sherlock Holmes early in the morning on Sunday. A boy from a messenger service brings it, and it's written in a fine, tight hand. The message is simple, the implication direct.]

Mr. Holmes,
If you possess a journal of a peculiar character, contact me. I may have work for a man of your storied reputation.
-Miss Vanessa Ives

[locked to 'emmy']

I'm not going to come murder you.

[locked to donna c]

In the mood for a drink?

[Locked to Sam A]

Did you get the help you were asking for?

[Locked to Louis D]

Thanks again for the other day. I really appreciated it. [...] Come over sometime. Let me pay you with dinner?

[Locked to Neil D]

I feel like I'm talking to you as much as I did when I was home and you were here.

[Locked to Cris M]

How are y I just wanted to check in with

(there's a blinking cursor for some time, but eventually nothing.)

[Locked to Sam A]

Hey, love.

[Locked to Wren H]

I'm sorry about how our last conversation ended.

[locked to max m.]

Okay, maybe I'm not a ball of sunshine all the time, but I don't think I'm "get a stranger to pretend they're me" levels of depressing.

[locked to cris m.]

Hey. You been okay?

[After this.]

[locked to louis d.]

Sam [...] left the hospital. She went home.

[locked to flash t.]

You said you could get MK somewhere safe?

[Locked to Neil and Louis]

[Messily.] im fine i dont want anyone getting worried or anythng ok? sorry for being trouble or whatever. really sorry.

[Bruce W.]
[The Bat Computer, which was completely overrun by Eddie's tech, starts to revert back to something more Wayne Corp. The self-taught hacker signatures vanish in favor of modern money. Green turns to blue. It's his resignation letter without having to actually say so. Which is so Riddler.]

Who: Bruce and Damian
What: Father and not-dead son meet properly. Or something.
Where: The Batcave.
When: Now, recently, who knows.
Warnings/Rating: IDK.

( This is a cut. )