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[conning]

"It's Caffrey. Remember the value of plausible deniability. I'll get back to you."

Comments

[malicieux]

I find it convenient, the gazebo's lost the spark for me but I can still play privately.

{ There's a bit of a chuckle. }

You were remarkably transfixed. A curious hobby.

[conning]

What happened in the gazebo? [There's concern in it, yeah, but a little bit of an edge too, because he's swears to god he's ready to lose it at certain parties.]

[malicieux]

It's impossible most times to go there and not see our dear friend Warden Shaw lurking there to watch me. And of course there was Mr. Bright assuming I was offering lessons as punishment and insisting I'd somehow stash bodies in the piano. Their commitment to ensuring my unhappiness is astounding, I should almost be impressed.

[conning]

She what?

Malcolm said what?

[A pause, then:] Actually. No, don't elaborate, not yet. Are you coming to this... [wannabe lynch mob] ...meeting?

[malicieux]

{ There's an amused scoff. }

Don't be absurd. As much as I adore the fact of a whole meeting of people talking about me, I doubt my presence will be of any use. Nor, I think, will my words be taken into any regard. I choose to spare myself the inconvenience of it.

{ And now his turn for a pause. }

Jonathan has taken on a lot in this matter, for which I am, of course, grateful, but I dislike seeing him suffer the blows on my behalf.

[conning]

Elaborate, then. Please. [Neal's tone has gone stony.] Unless Dr. Reid already knows.

[God, he's getting angry again, and he's tired and feels terrible and--]

This is such bullshit. How long has she been watching you? Is she still doing it? Was the talk with Malcolm on the network?

[malicieux]

The conversation happened, I believe, when I offered lessons over the network. As for Shaw, since the flood where I made some untoward actions upon you. I believe she came to me and broke a guitar, then haunted the gazebo ever since. Far be it form me to inform her how to spend her time but it does wear on a person.

[conning]

[A long, LONG silence, where Neal has to forcefully wind himself down from just.............. swearing a lot.]

Thank you. I'm going to familiarize myself with that conversation and I might share it with Dr Reid, if you have no objections. Going out on a limb and assuming you don't.

She broke a guitar?

[Okay he does a SMALL swear, just a soft little 'fuck,' as a treat.] Maybe it's good that you're not coming. Not because I don't think you should be able to. Because you shouldn't have to be in a room with a bunch of wardens who have hounded you for four months of doing nothing.

[malicieux]

Of course. I suspect it's something he'd like to know, given the trail he's currently blazing.

[conning]

Yeah. [His anger spools out into fatigue again. He sighs quietly. A moment of silence, then:]

Wardens need to be more vulnerable.

I don't mean on a personal level.

I mean their status as a warden needs to be under consistent re-evaluation. 'Don't murder an inmate' is not nearly a thick enough line.

[malicieux]

I’ll admit I find a lot of them to be rather amusing in what they will or will not react to. It’s when they start to flaunt false self-righteousness that it grows exhausting.

[conning]

I don’t. The warden in charge of the inmate who killed me, in response to my reaching out to help calm things down, essentially told me it was my fault I got murdered and that I should go sit in a corner and think about what I’d done. Which was, by the way, reply to his inmate with the exact same level of conversational antagonism that he leveled at me.

[malicieux]

I assume your own warden has stepped up to your defence in the matter.

[conning]

Of course. But you’ve seen how willing most wardens other than Dr Reid are to work with each other if their personal philosophies on rehabilitation don’t perfectly align.

[DELICATELY SARCASTIC.]