enigmaestro: (Behind.)
Edward Nygma ([personal profile] enigmaestro) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowl2020 2012-05-20 07:12 am (UTC)

"How am I?" He tossed back a look, one perhaps unintentionally wry. No one else was watching them, he pushed open the door. "That's a riddle with a fluid answer."

It was about nine hundred square feet, with a mirrored lower floor. Not the largest of hiding holes, A proverbial fox's den. But for what it lacked in space it resounded in tech: clean laptops lined a wall, digital maps of the City moved from unattended pens on a slick black desk. A long refrigerator lined a corner, keeping supplies (medical or otherwise) chilled.

His hands shook a little, when he ushered Max inward. They shook sometimes, when he remembered things, an action his very body was taught to repulse. Coffee rounds at City Hall, during Max's first week. He couldn't stop it fast enough, the shaking.

Katurian hated when he remembered.

"I -- " a throat cleared. "I suppose I owe you an answer, to where I've been. But I'm sure you can guess."

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