WHO: EDDIE NYGMA and OPEN.
WHERE: All over the City, just tag in your position.
WHEN: Between October 25, 2011 and October 29th, 2011.
WARNINGS: Will edit... In case... Well.
SUMMARY: I'm sure there's someone who wants to hit him, or something.
FORMAT: Tagger's choice.
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It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information. )
Which meant lots of work, and lots of the bossman coming in, which was what Wednesday was like, wherein Mitch didn't even knock before striding into Edward's office, one hand holding his Blackberry, the other holding onto a thick sheaf of papers.
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Edward Nygma was a busy man.
"A door commonly used for knocking. I could have been in the middle of something salacious!"
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"Sorry, I'm trying to get everything done that I can. I have some reports for you to look over," and he pauses, and even flashes a small grin, "unless that book of yours is that engrossing."
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"Which are priority? Or have they all something to do with the doomsday approaching?"
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Okay, so he got it out of his system, but there was a question, wasn't there? Yeah, there was. Still tended to get off topic nowadays, didn't he? "I've got everything that isn't about doomsday on the backburner, so you're in luck. Everything there is important."
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And then he glanced again at the stack, disdain written on his mouth.
"Oh." A pause followed. "I'll get to it, then. In the meanwhile?" He sat up, straight, and leaned over his desk. Hands folded.
"How are you?"
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The usual.
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"But really, you do. I'm concerned, Mitchell," he said, moving behind the mayor. His hand found a way to Mitch's shoulder, and he squeezed. "We can't have exhausted leadership, when the moment comes."
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"It's not like I can sleep, anyway. Not with all this shit going on." He hadn't been able to sleep well in years.
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His fingers pinched Mitch's shoulder, painfully coaxing focus.
"You're useless to us dead, Mitchell. That includes braindead."
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He pauses, trying to focus. He frowns, the corner of his lip curling down. "After this is over, maybe I can take a day off, get some rest. Leave you to clean up the mess."
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"Doesn't that sound... Oh, I don't know, dangerous?"
It was spoken with the same levity as his other punchlines. But not with nearly the same intent.
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"I'm an ex-superhero. You fuck things up, and I'll come after you in a jetpack, how's that sound?"
Voice level, but without inflection. What was his angle?
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The smirk was close enough to Mitch's ear to be tangibly felt.
"You know. During my ex-supervillain days."
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"Touché, although you weren't sending packs of wolves after me, or infesting my apartment with cockroaches, so maybe I could surprise you."
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Eddie withdrew, casually, now all smiles and easy-going humor. He made his way to his desk, sitting on the corner.
"So. About that vacation day, for you."
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