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[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

BZZZZZZZ

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[littletonoidea]

[Eiffel yanks his hand back quickly at the flinch; but it's the look Elias gives him - cold, so above him and so uncaring that he can't help remembering Cutter (losing patience with him across the prison desk, staring down from his Faerie throne as he tries to back drunkenly out of his Deal), and his spine folds like wet tissue.]

I-- uh, yeah. O-of course, mister Bouchard.

[extendedbrutalpipemurder]

[ That response feels so good--

(only good. nothing else.)

--like food to a starving man. It makes Elias want to keep looking, to take the moment to study Douglas Eiffel properly and see if there are other fears connected to that. Power helps for that, of course. But Elias has lived long enough and known enough people to learn that there multiple ways to get inside a person's fear.

But no. This inane man is beneath him. ]

And I would appreciate it if you checked with me before sharing anything which comes up between us. As warden, you're in a position of power here. I'd hate to feel I couldn't trust you.

[littletonoidea]

I... yeah. Y-yeah, of course.

[Amazing, how quickly that dynamic has shifted with Elias showing that icy managerial side. Eiffel is actually glancing away, still rubbing his face with one hand but deliberately avoiding eye contact, glancing sidewards at the floor.]