buywithme: (Default)
I'm asking the Admiral to return Barron Sharpe's powers to him. I believe that he is at a point now where he understands that using it for anything other than self defense does him more harm than good, and I think he's ready to use it responsibly.

For those of you who don't know, Barron is a memory worker. If he touches someone with his bare hands, he is able to change or erase people's memories, but every time he does this, he erases a memory of his own at the same time. For this reason, he almost always wears gloves, if you see him without them, or in the process of removing them, then he's either trying to threaten someone, or he's planning on using his power.

On the barge, the changes he makes to other people only last a week, and then their memories will be restored to normal, but the ones he loses stay lost.

I am not making a public announcement of this, because I... am aware of the fact that there are inmates on board who would take the fact that he has his power back at all as a good enough reason to kill him. Whether you choose to tell your own inmates or not, I'm leaving up to you, but please let me know if you have any concerns, either way.

[Private to the Admiral]

Please restore Barron Sharpe's powers to the level they were at when he first arrived here.
buywithme: (Default)
Dear Admiral/Kirk (Delete as appropriate)

Could we please have a replacement communicator for Shego? Hers was recently destroyed in a glowing hands of rage related incident.


buywithme: (Default)
[Prefect had put away about a quarter of a bottle of gin when he decided he felt like being social. Barron had been uncharacteristically quiet recently (a fact which Prefect failed to connect to the return of Perry Dawsey to the Barge.) and he had been feeling unusually relaxed and subdued, more certain that he belonged here than he had felt for a long while.

So he had taken to the corridors of the Barge, dismissing the pub after a brief thought, and choosing to look a little further afield for company. He did a quick lap of the library, a very brief exploration of the garden, before deciding that these locations were too exotic, and settling down into one of the common rooms, three remaining quarters of a bottle of gin in tow.]
buywithme: (Something is not right with the world...)
[Video clicks on, and for a minute, Prefect just waits expectantly. After a moment of waiting, he says tentatively:]

Uh, hello? Comrade?

[He waits a few minutes more, then frowns.]

...The first few times this happened to us, a strange, angry man with a beard interrupted my posts with wizard talk, and then was rude to all the people I knew. I don't think he was here last time it happened though... I hope he's all right.

[He's fine, Prefect. He just doesn't have a dreamwidth account.]

So, uh, Comrades, in the absence of the strange bearded man, I was wondering if anyone I knew was out there? Pavi? Or Comrade O'Brien?


Harvey De--

[He is interrupted by an EAR SPLITTING SHRIEEEEEEEEEEK, and Prefect quickly reaches forward to cut the feed and stop that HORRIBLE NOISE!]
buywithme: (Shocked)
[Video clicks on, and you get a nicely framed shot of a young man, with a nice, neat suit, and ridiculously well coiffed hair. Hello Wardens and Inmates! Brothers and Sisters! Comrades and Consumers!]

Comrades... Without wanting to sound accusatory, there have been a lot of discussions lately, about problems between wardens and inmates, and questions about what wardens can and can not do, and... honestly, some of these hypothetical questions should not be things that any of us are in doubt about.

If you are a warden, then killing an inmate, any inmate, should be your absolute last resort.

If you are an inmate, then at the very least you should not feel as if your life is in danger from a warden.

[Prefect's EXTREMELY SERIOUS FACE is extremely serious right now. He is kind of talking to you here, Buffy.]

Sadly, there will be exceptions to these. There will be situations where the decision will have to be made as to whether killing a dangerous inmate is the only way to prevent a great deal of harm, and unfortunately there have been, and will be, situations where wardens abuse their powers and neglect their responsibilities.

I don't think the problems we have right now are of that great a magnitude, however, I do think that the warden community has a collective responsibility of care for the inmate community, which it is very easy to neglect. Especially if you've got a tendency to devote all of your attention to your own inmate, and no one elses. [This is not a dig at anyone, he is 100% talking about himself here.] What this means is that no matter how good a job we are doing as individuals, there will still be inmates who are suffering unnecessarily, who see what we are trying to do here as being undermined by a small minority, and through these things, who lose the opportunity of a second chance that they've been brought here for.

[He clears his throat, clearly getting to the point at last:]

So, that brings me to the purpose of this post.

If there are any inmates currently on board who have serious concerns or complaints about the conduct of specific wardens, then I want to ask you to bring them forward. You can make them public, or I'd be just as happy to hear them privately.

The reason why I want to hear them is because while we don't have any specific authority over one another, and while I couldn't go out by myself and punish anyone for whatever they've done, or threatened to do to you? I would really want to take steps to protect you from that person. Whether it's by confronting the person who has threatened you, or by making sure that you have somewhere secure to stay, or... anything else that's within my capabilities, really.

[He reaches off Camera, and lifts up a small safety deposit box, with a slot on the top. Those who have been here for a million billion years may find it somewhat familiar...]

Now... What I'm talking about here are pretty specific and urgent circumstances, Comrades, but I'm aware that there will be other problems, and that they may continue to arise in the future. Because of this, I will be officially re-instituting the Complaints and Suggestions box. If anyone has a problem, and they either aren't comfortable coming to me in person, or if they can't find me immediately? Then from now on you'll be able to find this outside my cabin. That's outside room five, on level four.

And... to those who've only recently arrived? Welcome to the Barge, I'm sorry things have been a little hectic lately. My name is Prefect.

[And with that said, he gives a small, polite smile, and clicks off the communicator.]

buywithme: (comrade)
Image and video hosting by TinyPic

[incidentally this is the ass pic he linked too there. IT IS MELS CALL IF THIS IS ACTUALLY SHATNERS ASS OR IF HE IS JUST FIBBING. Don't ask how he got it.]
buywithme: (Bruised prefect)
[Video clicks on, and say hello to your friendly neighborhood hostaged Commodore. Prefect is slumped, shirtless against the stone wall of his cell, his expression is tired and irritable. He's a little scuffed, and there are bruises climbing up his chest, but as he begins to broadcast, you can see him force himself to straighten up, so that he can deliver his daily bitching session with an air of authority and professionalism.]

This is Commodore Prefect of His Majesty's Royal Naval Forces, calling all officers who are yet to join the cowardice hoard here in their treachery to the crown.

Myself and First Lieutenant Pendragon are now entering the hundred and twelfth day of our imprisonment here. Spirits are high, and neither one of us have swerved in our loyalty to his majesty, or our certainty that God, and right shall deliver us from this ugly circumstance.

[His expression slips slightly, and there's a hint of a glare coming through as he continues:]

It is in that spirit that I wish to add to the list of charges which I have recorded thus-far, to be pressed against the inhabitants of this vipers nest, when they are brought before the hand of the English courts and to the satisfaction of the just.

Two days ago, as Lieutenant Pendragon and I commandeered a vessel for the departure from this island, we were waylaid by two men known to be in the employ of Captain Reaver, known locally by the names "Black-Eye Dan" and "Fists McCall". Both men struck at us, and while alone we easily outmatched them, it did not take long for them to enlist the aid of the local mob, and we were swarmed by collaborators before we were able to depart.

[He's looking progressively embittered at this point, like even saying all of this is leaving a bad taste in his mouth.]

I have added the names of those guilty of colluding with our captors to the list [The list which he has been compiling since his arrival, which has the name of almost everyone in the port on it by now, which he updates every few days just so you know that you're on it.] In addition to the names of several local criminals who we have witnessed operating from the confines of our imprisonment.

The only men here more worthy of the noose than these scurrilous curs, are those deserters who come here, shed of their colours and entrenching themselves as deeply in the crimes this place as any other man! They are the shame of His Majesties Navy, and I name them too! I've much hope that you and I, oh last and loyal men, shall carry them to court martial, and to pay in blood for their cowardice, and their treachery!

[He ends in a pissy little snarl, before clicking off the video. Once the broadcast is finished, the text function scrolls down the communicators face, with a long, long list of the people Prefect is eventually planning on hanging. Feel free to assume that your character's name is on there.

It may go without saying that he makes these broadcasts frequently, and that they're only superficially intended for loyal Naval Officers. They're more like a giant, petty, ongoing fuck you to the pirates and inhabitants of Barcaza.

The cell (housing both Prefect and Arthur) is literally built into the corner of a building, and open to the street and passers by, so feel free to spam!]
buywithme: (Comrade)
[Prefect clicks on his video, and he's clearly relaxing. He's sitting in a small, neat cafe, with an expensive looking coffee in front of him. His hands are clean, but the cuffs of his sleeves are ringed with blood.]

Friends, three days ago, I thought that your claiming ignorance was just a coordinated attempt to get out of having to pay your debts, and while I believe taking that course of action to be irresponsible and futile, It's a very understandable motivation. [He taps the side of his coffee cup and frowns.] There's a difference, however, between trying to save your own life, and trying to attack the foundations of a company which does good. A company to which, need I remind you, we all owe our lives!

Let me ask you all something: Do you think organs grow on trees? Do you think that they fall out of the sky? Do you think that GeneCo is able to produce them magically and with no personal financial expenditure? Do you think that the surgeons who do the work can afford to live without payment?

Now I am sorry that you've all found yourselves in this position. I'm sorry, that we all get sick, and I'm sorry that there is no magical solution where organs appear out of thin air, and cost nothing. That isn't the world we live in though. Other people still need treatment, and when you refuse to pay your debts, and try to get away without returning what is GeneCo's property? Those are the people who suffer, because GeneCo can't afford to give them the organs they need at the prices they can manage to pay. Without us? They die. They all die.

[He takes a long drink of his coffee, emptying the cup before raising to his feet.]

GeneCo saved us. Rotti Largo, the man who cured the world, looked down upon our failing bodies and recreated them in his own image! You might be angry and you might be upset, but this company reached into the jaws of death and lifted us up, from damnation to something beyond and better than humanity! GeneCo did this for each and every one of us, and the world we live in now is built upon the back of their labour! When each and every one of you signed your contracts you embraced your role as a part of this world! You accepted the salvation which GeneCo offered, and you entered into a covenant to repay them for it. Friends, if you are unable or unwilling to do that then it is you who has broken your oath, not them.

[There's a dreamy, romantic quality in his eyes now, and the pseudo religious tone which has crept into his tone is familiar to anyone who's known him for long. It's the way he used to talk about the Factory.]

You have to understand that without GeneCo, society as we know it ceases to exist. Humanity ceases to exist. There are no other options, there is no other way, this is the path drawn out by destiny, evolution, and existence, mapped out and led by the great guiding hand of the Largo family! Deviation from it leads only to the true end of history. So friends, brothers, do not be afraid. Yes we are coming for you, and yes you will die, but the heart that beats within you now will live on, and prolong the life of another. Your body will strengthen the foundations of Sanitarium Island, and your legacy will be the continuation of GeneCo and the continuation of the human race!

[His eyes are sparkling with a spiritual fervor, and he smiles as he steps to the door of the Cafe.]

You should be grateful, Friends. You should rejoice, for the service that you do to your fellow customers! [He pushes the door open, still talking as he steps through. The paneled hallways of the Barge come into view behind him.] For though we are but tiny cogs within the great machine, Comrades, know that every death, every sacrifice, and every payment made is made for the eternal glory and power of The Factory! Beyond all ashes and dust and stretching out to the furthest reaches of infinity! Comrades! Consumers--

[And that's when he catches himself. Prefect falters, looking momentarily confused, before glancing down to his blood drenched sleeves.

His hands shake, as he ends the feed abruptly.]
buywithme: (un-fake smile)
[Video clicks on, annnnd yes, Prefect is still sitting at Barron's bedside in the infirmary. There's a small pile of Prefect-y posessions now flanking the bed, and an additional blanket folded over the end of Barron's bed. Because apparently he's just living here now.

There is a string of little hearts which have been cut out from some pink paper and which are now dangling across the top of Barron's bedboard, at least two blatantly home made valentines day cards sitting on his bedside table, and a very small, potted rosebush next to these. Prefect is staring at the Camera with an attentiveness which is clearly seasonal.]

Comrades! Con-- ah, Brothers and Sisters! I'm sure that you are all aware that it is again the time of year in which it is seasonally appropriate to shower one another with expressions of affection across all degrees of sincerity an insincerity! To reach out, and shamelessly distribute tokens representative of a degree of emotional fealty which it is impossible for you to guarantee will actually last, and to do so without hesitation! To linger not upon the possibility of outgrowing one another or making yourself look unsophisticated, but rather to charge forward blindly into overblown expressions of affection!

[He punches the air as he finishes this short tirade, and his eyes shine with a cheerful sincerity. IDK if you know this, but Prefect fucking loves Valentines day, guys.]

Now normally, Comrades, I would try and encourage you to purchase items either from me or from one another, to express the depths of your emotions towards your beloved, however: [He lifts his hands, because this is serious business and this year he will not try to sell you things!] I am a warden now, and It is my responsibility to attempt to not be evil, and control my consumerist instincts, so instead, I am going to suggest and demonstrate a number of things which you can do to express the depths of your love, which will cost you nothing but time and effort and resources.

Cut because god damn these Valentines day posts get longer every year. )

[Private to Nathan Petrelli]

Do you like valenti--

Has anyone brought you a rosebu--

I made you a ca--

Do you like pink champa--


By the way, Comrade, has anyone shown you around the warden areas yet?
buywithme: (Bruised prefect)
[Video clicks on. Prefect's sitting beside his comatose inmate in the infirmary, and looking... well... looking tired. He pressed one hand across his eyes, rubbing them, before glancing towards the camera again.]

When Eddie Russet left, he said he was going to try and change things in his world. To go... start a revolution, or join one. To try and change his world, even if he died in the process. Sonmi was the same. I don't know if anyone here got a chance to know her, really, but she was my inmate, before Barron. She was a worker. Born and bred and destined to be a worker, and she fought them. Like my workers fought me.

[He smiles, his gaze dropping from the Camera to stare out into space a little.]

I couldn't help her. I still don't fully understand why she was an inmate here, when she was a much better person than I was. She deserved... I don't know, he deserved to win. And when I think about that, I think, my workers? The people who killed me? They deserve to win too. They deserve a life outside the Factory. [He brings a hand up to scratch at his eyes, frowning now.] But-- but they won't get one, because the Factory is vast. It's vast, and it's powerful and it's omniscient, and it doesn't really need them. And it won't die in it's sleep. So they all lose, and none of them get that other life that they deserve, only I do. It's only me. [He drops his hand down again, staring into space, his expression desolate.]

Sonmi, and then Eddie, and now O'Brien. I guess Beatty too, eventually. I don't know if... if it's about atonement or suicide. Sometimes I think... eventually, I'll go back too. I'll have too, because if I don't actually try to change it, if I don't actually go out there and do something to fix what I did to all those people, then nothing that I've done here actually has any meaning. Nothing that I believe about justice, or freedom, really means anything.

[He finally glances back towards the Camera again.] I hate it though. I hate that they choose that. They just-- what kind of god complex do you have to have to think that your death, that your going back and fighting the good fight and dying will be the thing that changes anything? I'm sorry, Comrades, but Newsflash: This is not actually the end of history! The Factory is not infinite, eventually your totalitarian regime will fall with or without your intervention, and you have been lied too!

[His voice has sped up towards the end of this little speech, and his tone has hardened and he's openly agitated. As he finishes, however, Barron shifts slightly in his coma. It's really just a twitching muscle, but none the less, Prefect's attention is abruptly redirected to fawning over his unconscious form.]
buywithme: (COWBOYPREFECT)
[The camera clicks on with a jolt, and it's clearly night time. The only light comes from a nearby street lamp, but it's enough to illuminate what dastardly crimes are afoot here! The recording is an extreme close up angle, which manages to show the front window of one of the towns main supermarkets, the front of a dark jacket being worn by whoever's carrying the camera, and a gloved hand holding a can of black spray paint.

The hand shakes the can hard, before lifting it to begin spraying a line along the front window of the shopping center, the man holding the camera begins to walk, drawing the line out as he does so. He walks for probably a good ten seconds, continuing the thick black line for some time, before he reaches the shopping center's automatic doors. It is at this point that he reveals the true intent of the line, as he finishes it off by curving it around into the head of an extremely long penis.

The head completed, he switches his angle so that he's facing the wall head on, before beginning the second half of the penis, another long line, parallel to the first. He continues to the beginning of the first line, before finishing it off, with a flourish of lazily drawn testicles.

There's a moment of hesitation then, as the bearer of the can considers what to do next, before eventually scribbling over one of the adverts pressed against the glass of the supermarket window: "SPECIAL OFFER! ONLY $1.95!"

Banksy, eat your heart out.]

[ooc: John Kirk's a juvenile delinquent, brother to Bones and Carla, and acting out because DADDY KIRK WHY DID YOU LEAVE US? Sadly, he used to be a really nice kid, he was even the SCHOOL PREFECT FOR YEARS (herp derp see what I did there?) Feel free to hit him up with spam or comments <3]
buywithme: (Bruised prefect)
The corridors seem quieter than usual...

[Pause, and for a moment Prefect looks a little distressed, before his expression turns flat and unimpressed.]

I thought that meant that I'd have to end up running into fewer people under the mistletoe this year, because of the physics, but that is not how it's working at all.


How is that happening? I mean, Kirk's not even here, and he must have made up at least a third of all the kissing in previous years...
buywithme: (Puppy dog eyes)
[Video clicks on, and Prefect looks BAFFLED! LIKE A SAD, CONFUSED ALPHA PLUS.]

Where am I Comrades? How did I get here? I was supposed to be in 1973! Is this all in my head?

buywithme: (Bruised prefect)
[Click to a video of Prefect. He's sitting on a chair, holding a small stack of books, on the top of it, there's a dog eared copy of The Three Musketeers.]

This was the first book I read here on the barge, Comrades. Sam gave it to me... years ago now. [He pauses, leafing through the pages idly.] I haven't read many others. We didn't really have books like this where I'm from. I mean, Sometimes you saw people on tv reading them, and sometimes you could buy like... the book part of it, so that you could look like the people on tv, but the contents were always just advertisements.

[He turns The three Musketeers over in his hands, studying the synopsis.]

I don't really go to the library here much. I used to go there and get drunk in the historical agriculture section, when I needed a change of scenery, but I don't really get any books out. I mean, I liked this one? And I like parts of the Marquis's books although I do inevitably end up skipping most of them, but books... don't really have any kind of special significance to me. Burning them is just like... burning a cardigan that you were never really planning on wearing anyway.

[He tosses the book down onto the concrete floor of his cabin. The second book in the stack is a copy of Farenheit 451]

I understand that this isn't the case for most people here. I know that for Beatty, burning books is his job. He did it every single day, to wipe out something that he saw as harmful, it was his duty to protect the people of his society. I know that for most of you, burning books - and what Beatty did in his real life - is an act of oppression, and a threat against the authors of those books. It represents the destruction of free thought, and of totalitarian governments. So I can understand why seeing someone doing it makes you angry.

[He tosses down the copy of Farenheit 451, and it lands on the floor beside The Three Musketeers with an ominous little thunk. The final book in the pile is one that people could only recognize if they've been in Prefect's room. It's a thick, heat bound pile of papers, and looks more like an instruction manual than anything else.]

Beatty can't do any of those things here though. And he knows that he can't. He can't stop the books from being replaced, he can't stop you from buying more books in ports, he can't stop you from writing, or thinking, or reading. He hasn't done anything to oppress any of you. On the Barge, while living without freedom? Burning books isn't an act of oppression. It's an act of political protest. I don't care if you hate it, or if you hate what it's trying to say, or if you think that he should have been stopped, or that he should be punished for this...

[Prefect throws the last book down. The cover reads Acceptable Procedural Standards and Functions. Then beneath that, written in bold; Class: A+ Designation: Prefect. What remains in his hand, formerly hidden beneath the pile of books, is a lighter.]

...Non-violent protest is a right.

[It seems for a moment, like there's more he wants to say, but he stops himself. Instead, he grabs a bottle of gin, and douses the books with it, before reaching down with the lighter, and clicking it on, so that all three books are consumed into tongues of flame.]

FUN OOC NOTES: Prefect has shoved all his cardboard boxes to the far end of the room, and his cabin is made of concrete, so the fire shouldn't spread, annnnnd yes, all of these books are his <3


Oct. 16th, 2011 11:49 pm
buywithme: (praying)
[Video clicks on, and It's Prefect's cabin! Most of the room is overrun with carefully cataloged stacks of cardboard boxes, towering up to the ceiling in enormous quantities. The floor is made up of plain linoleum tiling and the walls are all gray concrete, basically if it wasn't for the desk and the meticulously well made bed, it would look more like a storage room or a garage than an actual habitable cabin.

Prefect himself is standing in the middle of the room, directly beneath the bare light bulb which is (from at least the beginning of the recording, and probably quite a while earlier) flickering on and off at fairly regular intervals. His head is tilted back slightly and he is staring right into the flashing light, pretty clearly oblivious to the fact that this is being recorded.

At first (though his lips are moving) this is a silent image, with only white noise broadcasting over it. Then, abruptly, the sound cuts in, and you get to know what Prefect is actually saying:]

Pronto a far tutto, la notte e il giorno
sempre d'intorno in giro sta
Miglior cuccagna per un barbiere,
vita piu nobile, no, non si da.
La la la la la la la la la la la la La!

[He's... singing Largo al Factotum from the Barber of Seville, and if you knew nothing else about Prefect, you now know that he is not good at singing opera, but he is very good indeed at getting all the words right.

This awkward scene continues for... well, for most of the song, before Prefect's body suddenly jerks. He brings a hand up to his mouth, like he's going to be sick, and takes a half step towards his bed before his legs give out, and he falls to the side and out of shot, with an unpleasant lurch. There's a short crack, presumably the sound of his head hitting the linoleum floor, then the lights go out.]
buywithme: (declanpout)
[Private to the Admiral]

Comrade, is there any possible way for Barron to have his memories restored? I mean, all of his memories? Or any of them?

[Private to Edward Nygma]

Comrade, do you remember when you said all of those things to me about helping Barron with his memory loss? He and I are planning on trying to work on recalling some of what he's lost, and I was wondering if the offer still stood?
buywithme: (Puppy dog eyes)
Hello, Comrade.

I just wanted to verify my identity, and current status as being well, and not kidnapped or beaten savagely and locked in a room, or having had any contact with you in the last few days.


Not that I'm gloating or anything, Comrade, just that I thought you should know that if you'd done that to anyone lately, then that person wasn't me.

[cathspam done now!]
buywithme: (MAGIC AND STARS)
[A warm, glowing light begins to fill your screen, before finally the image clears, and you get to see... the incomparably beautiful image of Mermaid Prefect, propped up against the side of the moat, with his arms resting on the muddy bank. He's managed to jam his communicator (which in this instance, is a beauty and the beast style magic looking glass) into the soft, damp earth there, so he can transmit to you all hands free. Once the image has cleared up, he smiles a glowing smile.]

Friends! Nobles! Countrymen! Since my last request for help, I have learned many wonderful and exciting facts about mermen, which I think would really inspire some of you to see how it's really in your best interests as well, to come and help me get to the ocean. So, I would like to take this opportunity to share my newfound wisdom and knowledge with you all:

[He clears his throat, and straightens up slightly. The sound of a tail slapping against mud is distant but audible.]

Fact number one: Mermen emit a very small amount of extremely deadly poison which can only be neutralized with salt. This is why we are supposed to live in the sea, so that we can't create terrible moats of poison which are sure to kill any who drink of them. [He gestures to the moat around him] I don't think this is too poisonous yet, but it's only a matter of time if I don't get back to the ocean.

Fact number two: Mermen (when returned to the sea) are obligated to grant whoever returned them to the sea three wishes! [Prefect does a little merman jazzhands at the screen, then grabs the bank again, because fff swimming in one place is hard.] Yeah, I bet you didn't know I could grant wishes, did you? Well I can! And there's only one way to get them! [He really, really, can't grant wishes :|]

Fact number three: The song of a Merman is so incredibly beautiful and harmonious, that anyone who hears it is completely entranced, and-- [WAIT. NOT A GREAT WAY TO GET PEOPLE TO COME TO YOUR MOAT, PREFECT.] ...and... they just feel happy for weeks and weeks. [NICE SAVE]

Fact number four: The ocean is practically full of spectacular merman treasures. If you take me there, I will give some to you.

So, there you have it, friends! Four entirely good, and exceptionally true reasons why you should come and help me to get back to the ocean! Wishes and treasure? Or a terrible poisonous moat! The choice is yours, but friends, I trust you to make it the right one.


[ooc: It is probably safe to say that merman Prefect has pulled this kind of thing before. Plenty of people have tried to help him, the only problem is, whenever someone gets within arms length his bitchy mermaid instincts take over and he tries to drown them. Prefect has tried this on many, many people.

Also lol completely open to spam c:]
buywithme: (Puppy dog eyes)
Comrade, in the factory, we had these... tiny blocks, tiny plastic coloured blocks, and they all fit together, to make towers and streets and cities...

I would like to construct many things from these blocks. With Barron. It'll be a major warden/inmate project.

but I need lots and lots of blocks please.


buywithme: (facepalm)
Barron... would you tell me, what do you think happens to someone when they die on the Barge?


[Added later: Private to Wardens]

I did this. It's my fault. During the flood, I just ruined his entire memory, and I told him that if he showed dedication to-- to ruthlessness, then he could graduate and go home. He changed so many people-- he lost so many memories, that when the flood ended, he didn't even really understand what was different.

So he did this, because... because he thought I wanted him too. Because I told him this was how to graduate.

I'm taking him down to level zero. I'm so sorry.


buywithme: (Default)

October 2013



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