Either you're lying, Mr. Nygma, and have done some research into me--though I cannot even consider how you would do so before you were even arrested or why, or even after. Or you're not lying...which would honestly open up an entire can of very awkward worms.
...yes. I should say it does. Because the former points to you being part of this set up, though admittedly I haven't a clue as to why. But I'm working on that.
"He's showing his hand early...such a prideful young man." [the voice is warm, affectionate, a little sad. There's a man standing at Oswald's side, now, hands clasped in front of him. Oswald may have gotten his eyes from his mother, but he clearly got his nose and wild dark hair from this man.]
Yes, I've taken that into account. But some people do these things for their own reasons, even if the result seems to be a suicide mission. [Oswald's eyes are narrowed] And yet, for the life of me, I can't seem to figure out what.
"Don't worry. He'll come around eventually. He always does."
[....right, he's just going to make a mildly frustrated sound in his throat, his expression actually showing it, and he leans back in his chair, arms folding over his chest. And he runs a hand through his hair]
I don't suppose they ever give you a break, do they? [he's not really sure he believes him (yet, if at all) but....that's a statement thrown at his feet and he's willing to follow it]
"Ah. I'm terribly sorry, young man. I didn't mean to impose. I'll return later, so as not to trouble you."[the man smiles a little, sheepishly, before moving to take a step back]
[Normally, Oswald is very good at spotting ruses. There's always a break somewhere. But...Edward's shown nothing of the sort. There are three available options to that: either he is a very, very good liar, he believes that its true and its a figment of his mind or...he's telling the truth.
The last one would seem the least likely to any sane individual but...these circumstances are getting less and less sane the more he is here. Between the too-convenient set up and the information about his clients and all of this business...it's really throwing him for a loop. Oswald just...watches him for a moment]
"Ah, well, if you're sure. Do let me know if you'd rather I leave, though. Or my wife. She's more stubborn than I, but if you ask, she'll listen."
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Additionally, I haven't decided yet whether you're lying or not. So there's that, as well.
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Has anyone ever told you how gracious you are.
[So very dry.]
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I can't imagine why not.
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Either you're lying, Mr. Nygma, and have done some research into me--though I cannot even consider how you would do so before you were even arrested or why, or even after. Or you're not lying...which would honestly open up an entire can of very awkward worms.
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"He's showing his hand early...such a prideful young man." [the voice is warm, affectionate, a little sad. There's a man standing at Oswald's side, now, hands clasped in front of him. Oswald may have gotten his eyes from his mother, but he clearly got his nose and wild dark hair from this man.]
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That makes sense.]
...Being part of this set up where I go to jail. Why on Earth would I be part of something like that, honestly...
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"Ever the suspicious one. I suppose he gets that from his mother." [amused, if anything, and continually fond]
There are several different scenarios possible; I simply have to figure out which one it is. But I need more time--hence, extending your trial.
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Once I head into jail, the odds of me living for very long afterwards are not great.
[He would've had to sign up for something that might very well kill him.]
...I can't exactly stop you stalling the whole affair. Do whatever you want.
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"Don't worry. He'll come around eventually. He always does."
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Sure he will.
[That's not directed at Oswald, obviously.]
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Excuse me?
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Do you actually think I'm involved in this?
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I don't know. Hence my stalling. [drawled]
Who will what?
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And that question is irrelevant, I wasn't talking to you.
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[He has a reasonable assumption, but he'd rather not just say it.]
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...this is madness. The whole thing.
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.....ah.
I don't suppose they ever give you a break, do they? [he's not really sure he believes him (yet, if at all) but....that's a statement thrown at his feet and he's willing to follow it]
"Ah. I'm terribly sorry, young man. I didn't mean to impose. I'll return later, so as not to trouble you."[the man smiles a little, sheepishly, before moving to take a step back]
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[He glances over.]
No, you're fine. At this point you might as well stay. It's... whatever.
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The last one would seem the least likely to any sane individual but...these circumstances are getting less and less sane the more he is here. Between the too-convenient set up and the information about his clients and all of this business...it's really throwing him for a loop. Oswald just...watches him for a moment]
"Ah, well, if you're sure. Do let me know if you'd rather I leave, though. Or my wife. She's more stubborn than I, but if you ask, she'll listen."
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[And he looks back at Oswald.]
I didn't tell you about all of... this because I expect you to believe me or anything. I don't. I only told you because you asked.
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