There several areas of Ed's life that Oswald has only really come to notice after stumbling out of his infatuation with Ed and into a different sphere of perspective. He doesn't, for example, know much of anything about those bad habits from college and even now hesitates to ask. Does he really want to nudge Ed toward troubled thoughts when things are going really very well, all things considered.
It is an issue though, Ed's weight and probably his poor eating habits overall. Something that needs addressing not just for Ed's own sake but for highly pragmatic and somewhat selfish reasons--it does Oswald no good if Ed and Riddler slam into working with him only to work themselves to utter exhaustion and skipping meals. At least, that's the assumption Oswald is working with at present.
"Then it would appear we need to develop or reestablish some better habits. And I would propose, at the very least, that we attempt to sit down together whenever possible for proper meals together. That won't always be viable, I know, but it would put me in quite the awkward position were I to join you and be the only one eating."
There's a non-committal hum from the man in question. He knows he can set and keep those routines; after he finished with college and went to work in the lab, he had to make sure that nothing would ever be compromised because of him. And post-college, for a while, things had been quieter. More settled between them.
Having someone to eat with would help. Ed tries to get breakfast with Victor most mornings, but they both keep their own lives and schedules. "I find it strange, how easily I've adapted to living with people. At the Van Dahl manor, and here. I lived on my own for so long that I thought I'd find it much harder to adjust than I have.
"I'd like that. If we can eat together regularly. And while it might be awkward, I do like seeing people enjoy the things I make. Be it enjoying my cooking or enjoying an origami penguin made from gift wrapping."
The latter part of Ed's comment makes something jump a little in Oswald's chest, like he's been spotted doing something he shouldn't, but the reply that comes out of his mouth is kind of unexpected and a bit of a verbal stumble.
"I have that!"
He pauses, realising he's kind of sat forward while speaking before slowly settling back as if doing so will diminish the attention that might be drawn toward his excitement.
"The-- what you made. I.. arrived here with it. Of all things."
Ed's lips part, but, for a moment, he's speechless.
He smiles warmly instead and nods slightly. "I have the puzzle box. And the frame with our certificates." Duplicity had been very pointedly not allowing Ed to forget the man he left behind.
"Those and my switchblade. It was reassuring, knowing I wasn't unarmed here." He understands why Oswald had taken it, because it was the same reason he had kept it in his pocket at all times.
Well. That's just strangely poetic of a shitty sex dungeon city. It draws a soft laugh from Oswald as he lowers his head in bashful amusement.
"Perhaps it truly is fate," he muses aloud, recalling one of the earliest conversations he and Ed had when he awoke in the other man's bed, tired and worn and broken.
He's quiet for a moment then, running his tongue across the flats of his teeth beneath his lips adds, "And I have that too."
Oswald's comment coincides with the car drawing to the gate out of the city, leaving the specific subject hanging quite ambiguously as he makes to step out and reach into his pocket, withdrawing the switchblade and offering it to Ed like it's something strangely precious.
"Admittedly, I had every intention of returning it to you sooner."
It startles a short laugh from Ed, nothing particularly mirthful, more shock than anything.
Because of course Oswald got that.
Oswald producing the blade makes him smile. He reaches out and closes Oswald's hand around it, but then keeps holding. "Keep it as long as you want. Or need. I just wanted to know you were a little bit safer here." Since Oswald hadn't been able to stand having him near until he worked out how he felt and where they stood.
He gestures Oswald to get out while he fixes up for the cab.
For men like them, it's silly to get sentimental over weapons. In the heat of a firefight, blades and guns and bullets don't have meaning except for the times that they do. There's nothing special about the knife except that it's Ed's, that he knew Oswald pocketed it, that he told him to keep hold of it, that he's now suggesting that he only return it if he's feeling secure enough to do so. And there is no better safety blanket in the world than a knife, as far as Oswald is concerned.
With a small shake of his head, Oswald pulls the blade back for now. He has the one in his cane if he needs it, but making a fuss over who should take one little switch blade right now seems to make about as much sense as arguing over who will settle the cheque at dinner--it'll come to each of them in time.
Moving himself to the gate between the two cities, Oswald slips his hand, along with the blade, back into his pocket and waits with a bit of lingering nervous energy, something familiar and entirely different to what he once knew from being around Ed.
Ed settles up the cab and then joins Oswald at the gate, not hesitating to step back through. It's strange to think that there's a place he dislikes enough to make Duplicity seem welcoming, but since he can't enjoy the benefits of living in Insincerity, visiting to be bombarded with the penalties seems pointless to him.
"Is there anything you fancy for a meal? I can order ingredients on the way to be delivered."
For Oswald, Insincerity is exciting for absolutely zero reasons related to the city itself. The city itself is dull and flavourless, and in that is potential. None of that needed explaining to Ed as far as a business venture is concerned, but as for Insincerity itself? Well, if Ed wants to find his own footing for reconnaissance purposes then he'll do that all on his own.
Feeling a little bold once they step back into the surprising vibrancy of Duplicity, Oswald steps to Ed's side to slide his arm into the crook of the other man's elbow, not simply waiting to be offered it this time.
A straight-forward answer would be the most simple and least challenging, though if Oswald knows anything about Edward Nygma it's that what he truly hungers for are questions and puzzles, and if this is as much about Ed finding his appetite as anything else, Oswald should give him something to think on.
"Something that gives you enjoyment to make. Something you would enjoy watching me try. Something that would never taste as good were it created anywhere else. And it can take as little or as much time as it needs."
Of course, he's only talking about food, but the way he looks at Ed could easily suggest that isn't all he's speaking to.
Ed lets his elbow be taken, somewhat absent because he's already scanning, looking for trouble, for marks, for familiar and unfamiliar things. He can't help it still, hypervigilant against a hostile world.
Oswald's words bring a slow growing smile to his face though, and he nods slowly, thoughtfully. "I'm not going to try and make anything Hungarian or Italian. But... mm, I have some ideas." He pulls out his device and starts texting, putting together an ingredient list.
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It is an issue though, Ed's weight and probably his poor eating habits overall. Something that needs addressing not just for Ed's own sake but for highly pragmatic and somewhat selfish reasons--it does Oswald no good if Ed and Riddler slam into working with him only to work themselves to utter exhaustion and skipping meals. At least, that's the assumption Oswald is working with at present.
"Then it would appear we need to develop or reestablish some better habits. And I would propose, at the very least, that we attempt to sit down together whenever possible for proper meals together. That won't always be viable, I know, but it would put me in quite the awkward position were I to join you and be the only one eating."
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Having someone to eat with would help. Ed tries to get breakfast with Victor most mornings, but they both keep their own lives and schedules. "I find it strange, how easily I've adapted to living with people. At the Van Dahl manor, and here. I lived on my own for so long that I thought I'd find it much harder to adjust than I have.
"I'd like that. If we can eat together regularly. And while it might be awkward, I do like seeing people enjoy the things I make. Be it enjoying my cooking or enjoying an origami penguin made from gift wrapping."
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"I have that!"
He pauses, realising he's kind of sat forward while speaking before slowly settling back as if doing so will diminish the attention that might be drawn toward his excitement.
"The-- what you made. I.. arrived here with it. Of all things."
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He smiles warmly instead and nods slightly. "I have the puzzle box. And the frame with our certificates." Duplicity had been very pointedly not allowing Ed to forget the man he left behind.
"Those and my switchblade. It was reassuring, knowing I wasn't unarmed here." He understands why Oswald had taken it, because it was the same reason he had kept it in his pocket at all times.
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"Perhaps it truly is fate," he muses aloud, recalling one of the earliest conversations he and Ed had when he awoke in the other man's bed, tired and worn and broken.
He's quiet for a moment then, running his tongue across the flats of his teeth beneath his lips adds, "And I have that too."
Oswald's comment coincides with the car drawing to the gate out of the city, leaving the specific subject hanging quite ambiguously as he makes to step out and reach into his pocket, withdrawing the switchblade and offering it to Ed like it's something strangely precious.
"Admittedly, I had every intention of returning it to you sooner."
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Because of course Oswald got that.
Oswald producing the blade makes him smile. He reaches out and closes Oswald's hand around it, but then keeps holding. "Keep it as long as you want. Or need. I just wanted to know you were a little bit safer here." Since Oswald hadn't been able to stand having him near until he worked out how he felt and where they stood.
He gestures Oswald to get out while he fixes up for the cab.
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With a small shake of his head, Oswald pulls the blade back for now. He has the one in his cane if he needs it, but making a fuss over who should take one little switch blade right now seems to make about as much sense as arguing over who will settle the cheque at dinner--it'll come to each of them in time.
Moving himself to the gate between the two cities, Oswald slips his hand, along with the blade, back into his pocket and waits with a bit of lingering nervous energy, something familiar and entirely different to what he once knew from being around Ed.
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"Is there anything you fancy for a meal? I can order ingredients on the way to be delivered."
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Feeling a little bold once they step back into the surprising vibrancy of Duplicity, Oswald steps to Ed's side to slide his arm into the crook of the other man's elbow, not simply waiting to be offered it this time.
A straight-forward answer would be the most simple and least challenging, though if Oswald knows anything about Edward Nygma it's that what he truly hungers for are questions and puzzles, and if this is as much about Ed finding his appetite as anything else, Oswald should give him something to think on.
"Something that gives you enjoyment to make. Something you would enjoy watching me try. Something that would never taste as good were it created anywhere else. And it can take as little or as much time as it needs."
Of course, he's only talking about food, but the way he looks at Ed could easily suggest that isn't all he's speaking to.
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Oswald's words bring a slow growing smile to his face though, and he nods slowly, thoughtfully. "I'm not going to try and make anything Hungarian or Italian. But... mm, I have some ideas." He pulls out his device and starts texting, putting together an ingredient list.