"I can think of a bunch of kids, eight-year-old me included, who'd think that squatting in a weird old castle sounds like living the dream," Marty responds, smirking. "Though yeah, my tune would have changed too once the adults started talking about school. . .and I bet it's rough. I wouldn't know where to start if I had to build my own -- well, everything, I guess. The pocket reality I live in right now is kinda weird, but I guess I should just be grateful it comes with buildings and groceries and all that." He glances at Erdammeru. "So you've been keeping them supplied, huh?"

"Yeaaaah, that sounds like a good place to start -- the food here's safer than it once was, but you never know when you might get hit with a LOL," Marty says, wrinkling his nose. "I don't remember farming being big in Gotham -- unless you were Poison Ivy, like you said -- but there had to be some people making the food." He just wishes that the first people who came to mind on that front weren't the Kents. He's not sure how anybody here feels about the Big Blue Farmboy.