Lockdown

[3rs]

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[3rs]

"Step away from the bars! You too, Nygma." Edward rolled his eyes, but he stepped back obediently, mostly to keep from getting zapped or whacked. He was curious though, so he only stepped out of reach, not too far back.

"What? Waiting to greet your boyfriend?"

"Witty." Made him more curious, admittedly. "Who's my boyfriend now?" Because the last candidate he hadn't even met before. However, when he spotted who was being led down the hallway, he actually had to smile. "Jon! I guess that makes sense, this time of year. Sorry I missed Halloween." Clearly Jon hadn't, from the looks of him.

[jonboy]

"So you wanna tell me what has you so freaked out, son?"

Jon sat down by Edward and frowned at him, trying to piece together what he was missing. He didn't have any food on his tray, he just had water. He wasn't hungry, it usually took him a day or two to build up hunger. That and the food here was suspicious and garbage so he didn't really fancy any of it.

He looked around the room to make sure there was no unknown variable before settling on the logical conclusion. "It ain't that fucking gorilla of a man, is it? Cause he ain't scary. He's just a bully. Got plenty of those in life, don't we?"

Surely that wasn't the answer.

[3rs]

"The fuck is this bullshit? What are you waiting for?!" Clearly out of patience - as he always seemed to be - Bolton grabbed Jonathan and bodily forced him into one of the shower cubicles, turning on the water. Edward had been watching, like everyone else in the room, with wide eyes. He was used to Jonathan taking some time before showering, he didn't like showing his body. At least that was Edward's assessment and he hadn't poked at that yet. One never knew around here.

However, right now he could not even see Jonathan, because Lyle Bolton was unreasonably broad and had him blocked into the shower cubicle, the towel hitting the floor and the water coming down hard. Edward looked around, at a loss. Was anyone going to do something?

Oh no.

Did he have to do something?

[3rs]

It was not an easy decision, but a necessary one. There were a few other options, but Edward was suspecting that whatever - whoever - was keeping Lyle Bolton in Arkham had to have a lot of influence. Calling just anyone would not do. No, he had to call someone. And no one in Gotham was more of a someone than Oswald Cobblepot.

On the surface, there wasn't really any issue with calling Oswald. He liked Oswald, for the most part, and he had no doubt that Oswald liked him. Appreciated him, even, for his habit of wearing very tight-fitted pants as much as his intellect and ability to entertain the crowd at the Iceberg Lounge. He was certain that Oswald had at least some vested interest in him not being wasted in Arkham. However, Oswald never did anything for free and, as favours went, depending on how negotiations went? This could count as a big one.

So Edward made sure he was no longer concussed when he used his phone call to dial his way through the system, bypassing the numerous people on the way and making sure his call would go straight to Oswald's personal telephone in his office in the Iceberg Lounge. It was afternoon, so he expected he'd be at work, not too drunk, and hopefully in a good enough mood. "Oswald? Good day to you! Edward here, Edward Nygma. It's been too long."

[delitefun]

"Now, why don't we clear this up?" Bolton stopped marching Delite along, still holding his arm - he was in a straight-jacket - and looking right at Jonathan through the bar of his cells. "You see, your precious "Doctor" Crane is in here in the nuthouse, just like you, you complete loon. Why do you think he gets to treat you?"

"Dr Crane said not to take the--"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE SAID!" Bolton shouted loudly enough to make Delite duck his head, looking at Jonathan both miserably and apologetically. "HE'S A FREAK! ALL OF YOU ARE FREAKS! FUCKING ACCEPT THAT ALREADY!"

[3rs]

...arriving very much out of breath - Edward was in good shape generally, but it was difficult to keep up with cardio while stuck in Arkham for over three months, he made it out the door, panting as he looked at Oswald. Victor Zsasz stood next to the mayoral candidate, tilting his head to the side curiously.

And Edward tried to explain. "I-- Scarecrow! He's-- He got out somehow, I don't--" Right, he really should catch his breath first and try not to incriminate himself.

And just like that, the blaring started, the alarm, the announcement.

"ATTENTION! THE ASYLUM IS GOING INTO LOCKDOWN! ALL VISITORS ARE URGED TO VACATE THE PREMISES. ALL STAFF MEMBERS: HEAD TO THE STAFF ROOMS. ALL GUARDS ON THEIR POSTS. PRISONERS ARE TO BE ESCORTED TO THEIR CELLS AND REMAIN THERE!"

Edward gestured, figuring that said enough. "Yeah. That."

He pushed his hair back from his face, taking another deep breath, and watched as Victor handed a gun to Oswald, patting himself down with a frown, likely accounting for how many kills he could make.

"We need a plan," Edward ventured, but that just made Victor look at him expectantly. Ah, right. He was the plan guy.