There's the sound of a mandolin not far from where they're standing, and the feeling that they're not alone in the room, even if their eyes would say they are. And for a moment or two, that's all that's happening until the door to the room closes and they'll both feel the slight shift. Which is when Vincent's laundry basket full of snacks from the commissary, clothes, and water bottles will be revealed, as well as Vincent himself, looking rough as he sits at the table, practicing his calligraphy.

Unsurprisingly, he's actually rather good at it.

"I'm sorry I didn't think to leave a note. I wasn't in the mood to-" He scrubs at his face.

"I forgot my communicator, didn't I? Shit."

He considers it. Seriously.

Then he shakes his head.

"No, leave it there, please," because not having it on him means that he doesn't have to look at messages he isn't answering. He'll be better able to deal with those, even a few of them piled up, when he isn't like... this.

He looks to Oscar.

"What has he said, exactly?"

The tone isn't suspicious; he trusts Arthur as much as he trusts anyone, really. But he wants to know how much Oscar is aware of, how many pieces he's put together.

He waves a hand towards Arthur.

"I am well aware that Arthur wouldn't tell you anything I wouldn't approve of. We see eye to eye on most things," he says with a soft huff, a noise lacking the usual humor to be called a laugh.

"And the Cat King hardly needed to. He had access to Hanna, the most visible lever for me on board."

He'd made certain of that.

"I'm not worried about my safety, Oscar."

He folds his hands in front of him, on top of the book of lettering that Kahl had helpfully left for him. Then he clears his throat as he looks at both of them, reporting the facts as they have been presented to him.

"As the Cat King has graduated, Hanna has decided in his infinite wisdom to award his deal to the Cat King, allowing him the means to travel between dimensions, apparently. Including to his world in case the Cat King should, in Hanna's words, 'ever need him'."

There's a glance to Arthur, whom he knows for certain knows his eventual 'plans'. Or what were his plans. And then smiles at Oscar.

"He did not, of course, ask me whether I needed anything since, of course, I as an ungraduated inmate could hardly need anything of any importance. And he seemed inclined to think I would be very happy that I would 'probably' never see the Cat King again."

He entwines his fingers.

"I was, of course, so elated by this news that I felt the need to hole up in this remote room away from my communicator and every other living being since in my rapturous joy, I might accidentally step on a small, completely innocent creature who does not deserve to in any way be harmed by my... great and bounding giddiness."

He swallows, then grabs for a water bottle.

"So you see, my warden, Arthur, I will, in fact, be just fine. As soon as all the cats are gone and I can... properly express my intense... feelings over this momentous occasion."

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty," he murmurs, hoping to break the tension a little, but there's less snark and more fondness at the both of them itching to defend him. It's not something he's comfortable with, not hardly, but he wouldn't dare dream of actually dismissing it. Thus he breathes out.

And looks to Arthur.

"Yes, my chosen god who also chose me. Apparently, I am Saint Vincent, first priest of Kahl, if you can believe such grandeur of your humble compatriot in inmate rights administration," comes with a wry smile. But then he looks to Oscar. "But I'm hardly married to this room. You said you had a space in your cabin, Father?"