Rooms

[Comm to Billy K]

Beep, beep.

[Locked to Charles X and Kevin S]

Is Talia still at the Mansion? I tried contacting her, but I couldn't.

[As Jim G]

[Major pen press.

Eventually, testing, scrawled:] Gordon.

[Her pen rests on the page for a while as she thinks. There's maybe a small drop of tea in the corner.]

I'm only getting some news from Gotham here. And whatever is public in the journal. And I knew that things were hectic and complicated, so I didn't want to pester while I knew you were likely busy and needing to focus on other things. But now it looks quiet and I wonder if I'm being a bad friend by not checking in.

I'm not sure I'll ever get used to not being with my family during the holidays.

[Locked to Tony S]

Want to set a pigeon free?

[Could Amanda drop off the face of the earth? Of course, she's a survivor like him. Could she get arrested without opportunity to talk to him? Sometimes. But it seems unlikely that she would just cut off contact with him or pull a huge heist without a heads-up under these circumstances. So why isn't Amanda saying anything to him?]

I'd open the Pandora's Box of asking what happens when people disappear here, but that's just another one of those great timeless questions.

So instead, something more manageable.

What door has the best beer? This is perhaps a quest I can undertake.

[Eddie N. & Dick G.]
[the fuzziest of fuzzy times]

The cremation will be at [time/place].

A memorial will be at [time/place].

Master Grayson, Master Nigma, I will appreciate your telling the people who need to know. Thank you for your assistance.

[Steve R

Steve, have you seen what Natasha wrote?

[Tony S]

Where are you?

[Selina K]

[A series of cursor blinks, then:] Have you heard anything from our side, lately?

[Private to Holly R]

Holly, how are you doing?

GIRD YOUR LOINS....

Darcy's back, and you're gonna be in trouble...(hey la)

Seriously though, this crap is still weird.

[Spending the night at Wayne Manor wasn't something Selina did. In fact, recently, it was something she was very careful not to do. But she was willing to break her own rules; she was fickle, after all. Helena wasn't here, and neither was Damian, and all the reasons she'd stayed away didn't seem so impressive in the wake of Bruce's loss. And, alright, maybe she liked the warm bed and the safe arms that came with it, too.

She slept in, and she soaked, and by the time she padded down to the kitchen of the Manor it was past lunchtime. She had no idea when tea happened, and she wasn't going to ask; asking wasn't her style. But she knew where the kitchen was, just like she knew where everything was in this house, and she made her way there. One of Bruce's dull grey shirts that hung nearly to her knees, those pearls she so liked to borrow, and a pair of socks to her shins.

She walked into the vast space, and she smiled at Martha, who was following at her heels. Too many dogs in this house by half, and the cat jumped up onto a shiny, clean counter. She grinned.] I don't think the old butler is going to like you doing that. [She scratched beneath the cat's chin, and then she slid up onto said counter herself. Annoying butlers was, she thought, a good way to start the day.]

So. I hear Bruce is gone.