Re: eddie/muerte quicklog
[Duane, for all that he'd been quiet until plied with tech, rolled his eyes (in the way of all teenagers) at the shake of Eddie's head.] Nah, we're all good people here. Don' mean people don' got records or anythin'. 'fact, lots of 'em do. But good. You get? [He looked up, dark eyes on Eddie, and nodded. Of course he understood, right? Duane wasn't so young as to not remember the older stories about the Riddler.] Good enough friends for fancy presents and questions, deserves a visit, maybe.
[But then, the words dropped so easily into the space between them, he was nodding again for a different reason, taking the disks from Eddie's hand and shuffling through them quickly, doing a brief inventory. The glow of the computer was already starting, correct disk chosen as he handled it with one hand, the other using that pencil to jot down the list that Eddie rattled off. He'd maybe done only about half of it all before, but there was no sign of confusion that he'd lost track of what Eddie was saying.] Got it. [His head snapped up at the compliment, eyes wide with the unmaskable surprise of someone (other than his sister) delivering such a compliment. Especially a man in a nice suit and a mask whose name everyone knew. His own hand came up, detouring hastily to shove the pencil behind his ear before reaching to shake Eddie's. He didn't stand, just shook hands and, after a second, smiled wider than he yet had. And then, a final squeeze before he retrieved his pencil, he nodded to himself. And shrugged.] Zoe's prob'ly with the Russian mamas. [He jerked his chin upwards.] Settin' up a room for all the littles people got around. Upstairs. [And then a grin that went crooked.] Jus' don' tell 'er I told you. Trouble I don' need. [Directions given, he nodded again and returned his attention to his list of things to do.]