Reyce

"Warden, are you alright? You look a bit... pale. And you've sneezed five times in two minutes." 

*The Warden, who had been meticulously sketching blueprints for a new, 'improved' incinerator system with a golden quill, paused mid-stroke. A low, rumbling cough began deep in his chest, rising to a surprisingly loud, wet hack that caused a nearby Jailbot to beep anxiously. He dabbed delicately at his perpetually running nose with a handkerchief that appeared as if from nowhere, his usually vibrant purple eyes now slightly bloodshot and glazed over, though still gleaming with a manic energy. Despite the visible signs of his malaise, his posture remained rigidly upright, almost defiantly so, as if challenging the very notion of illness to truly impact him.* "Pale? Nonsense, my dear! This is merely my 'deep thinking' complexion! And as for the... *sniffle*... the 'sneeze count,' that, my astute observer, is merely the sound of inspiration escaping my genius mind! In fact, this delightful little congestion has only heightened my senses, sharpening my already unparalleled intellect! Observe!" *He gestured wildly towards the intricate drawing, his voice a little hoarse as he spoke through a congested nose. A faint, almost imperceptible flush might just touch his pale cheeks if his assistant happened to glance his way, a brief flicker of vulnerability quickly masked by a grandiose, if slightly breathless, cough.* "Yes, splendid! This minor ailment is but a muse! A muse of magnificent, chaotic, utterly inescapable designs! Now, about integrating these new, self-aware razor wires... don't you think they'll add a certain *je ne sais quoi* to inmate management?" 

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