David Cain

Hilarious.

From:

Yo.

[ Wow, hands and a mouth.

And morse code too, but that would just be silly. ]

From:

Y'know, I can't decide if it'd be an insult if I asked how you did.

[In Gotham, implying that someone's skills aren't up to the task is a pretty nasty insult.]

You remember me at all?

From:

[He grins]

Show off.

[PRIVATE]

Gordon said you were after the Joker. After what he did to Iris.

From:

You know, a better question would be why do you care?

[Then, of course, he has his answer. And so does Cain:]

Great. Another one. Did that asshole sleep at all or did he just spend the entire damn time talking to anyone in sight?

From:

Someone else beat me to the punch. But I did get to express my opinion all over a bunch of inanimate objects and abused animals.

Edited (oh no a letter escaped the mirrorverse) Date: 2014-07-28 11:42 pm (UTC)

From:

[He snickers, can't help it.]

I never saw him sleep but that's probably 'cause I was his inmate. He probably had a siren that went off whenever I came by.

[That Dean won't even refer to a past version of himself as anything but another person says a lot, and Cain takes a moment to decide how to roll with it.]

Anyway. I care 'cause I know you're one of the few people on board who's hard to shock. Whatever your home was like, it's got you all set for life here. Pretty handy.

From:

.. -. -.. .. ... .--. --- ... . -.. -... ..- - -... .-. . .- - .... .. -. --. .-.-.- .. .-.. ..- .-.-.-

From:

Fantastic.

[Logically, Dean knew that since the previous version of himself had been a warden, he must have had an inmate; he even knows that inmate must have graduated, because no one's pissed off that the other Dean isn't here anymore. Not for that reason, anyway.

He's distinctly unimpressed to actually be talking to the man, though, although it's true: he doesn't look even remotely shocked.]

Yeah that's exactly how I would describe it. Handy. [Or, you know, not.] We don't have to do this. Whatever "this" is.

From:

How would you feel about throwing me a couple details about what happened to him?

[It's not a wardenly thing to ask, but right about now he'd be willing to go back to scratch if it meant a little satisfaction for everything the Joker did.]

From:

[he barks a laugh]

More'n breathing, if you're up for joking. Can you talk yet?

From:

[She's not looking good. She's lying flat, back in her own room, lapped in dogs, but she's smiling.]

You 'ave to kill me a lot 'arder than that to stop me joking, sunshine.

[A beat.]

M'sorry. I really never saw that coming.

From:

[Cain offers another low chuckle, but thereafter he is all soldier.]

Yeah let's just cut through this Lone Ranger bullshit, you're too smart to stick that out for long and you'd just be wasting your own time if you tried.

What "this" is not, is me trying to reconnect with a friend. We weren't friends, and there's too much going on here to try braiding each others' hair and sharing our Legos. But you are good at what you do. Right? You haven't forgotten how to crack skulls?

From:

Supergirl and Captain America softened him up, but I think it was C'rizz who finally took him in. I'm not a hundred percent sure, I wasn't there.

From:

How'd he get you?

[The fact that it's not Jack's fault, that there's no revenge to be had (or any forgiveness, either) means that it all just has to sit, like a puddle of acid.]

From:

[He sighs. It's not satisfying--but he's also aware that hearing sordid details wouldn't help anyway.]

You all right?

From:

[Once upon a time, the businesslike attitude and the take charge tone would have made Dean at least consider falling into line; he knew how to take orders from someone who knew how to give them.

Now the dark hazelgreen of his eyes goes flinty, and he sits forward a little. It's not anger, really, or anything like fight in what comes back from him so much as cold, hard facts.]

Good, because I'm not in the market for friends, and especially not the kind that mixes their metaphors all to hell. What I've seen so far is mostly a bunch of amateur civilian dipshits trying not to choke on a couple hiccups in reality so yeah, I might be smarter than to try to stick it out alone if I don't have to, I might be good at what I do, but I'm not seeing much of an option besides.

From:

[She keeps the video feed up, but making mouth noises and keeping her eyes open is more than she's up to for long, so she goes back to putting her words in text.]

he texted me to apologise for being an arse during the flood. around halfway through he turned Jack's back to me, and when he swung around with the gun in his hand he'd stopped being Jack at all.

I didn't see any tells, and he shot first and talked afterwards. I think he's been wearing Jack like a skin. I haven't talked to him yet but I'd bet money he was there for it all, present.

and he was stressy and weird after the flood anyway so that must have acted as camouflage.

i really need to talk to him soon, poor bastard.

From:

[He doesn't quite smother a laugh]

How do you measure what people are competent, huh? Against yourself? You couldn't take me when I was drunk. So if your new daring strategy is to run and hide and wait it out, this boat isn't big enough for stealth.

From:

What makes you think he's not still lurking around in him?

From:

Run, hide? Nah. Wait it out? I don't see a better option for the position I'm in at the moment.

[This is either a blatant lie or the truth depending on the day; it always comes out the same regardless.]

I don't remember asking for your opinion either way.

From:

Who, me? I'm peachy. You all worry about me for no reason, I swear.

From:

that is precisely why I need to talk to him. me or Jean or both.

From:

Yeah well you don't wait for people to ask either.

Do you want to go home? You left here because- well, fuck it, you left here because you decided to. Did you get a choice about coming back here?

From: