[Last he heard, one of the bridges to the mainland was nearing repair with the help of the volunteers and supplies flying in; that much he knows from Alfred's comings and goings, his routine restocking of the fridge. But with no stake in anything anymore, the finer details of life in Gotham that he would have once kept on top of, craving knowledge, are about as meaningful to him as the writings on the back of a cereal box.
He thinks about turning over and shunning Alfred's plans, but something else springs to mind. He blinks, frowning.]
My estate... [he croaks] ...does it remain inaccessible?
no subject
He thinks about turning over and shunning Alfred's plans, but something else springs to mind. He blinks, frowning.]
My estate... [he croaks] ...does it remain inaccessible?