buywithme: (Look away)

I... I don't feel that the Barge is a suitable venue for your rehabilitation any longer, and I think we should possibly start thinking about alternative options.

If there is a safe way to leave the barge as an inmate, then I don't know what it is, but... still, we need to talk.
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: (Look away)
[Video clicks on, annnnnd PREFECT TIME! The Camera is set up on Prefect's desk, and he's sitting in front of it. He looks slightly agitated, as if he's just trying to think of something, but he can't get it to come to his mind. Finally, he speaks, but his voice is slow, careful. As if he's not quite sure if he wants to be saying this.]

We used to say that-- that god was dead, and that history was dead, and that we'd built the Factory on their bodies. So that was always how I used to think of God, as this... abandoned idea, that didn't matter anymore. Or as a historical figure. It was like saying the Queen of England was dead, or that Elvis was dead. They were these insignificant institutions that had no meaning to me. Honestly, I think we only even said that he was dead because it was catchy.

[Pause. Prefect is obviously thinking haaaard about this.]

I used to just ignore Howie when he talked about God. I think... in my head, he was like this person, who desperately wanted to talk about something that no one else anywhere cared about, and that nobody else wanted to hear about. People would get into arguments with him, and say things just to upset or offend him. Eventually people began targeting him and attacking him because he wouldn't stop talking about this completely pointless thing, but he kept on talking about it.

[He gives a helpless little shrug.] It took me a long time to make the connection between the entire way Howie lived his life, and that thing he wouldn't stop talking about. He was such a good warden, Comrades. In times when there really weren't any good wardens, he was always such a good warden. He was here for years, and in that time, no matter what happened to him, he is... literally, the only person on this entire ship that I can think of, who never acted out of pure selfishness. He was always driven by the belief that he had to do what was right. For his inmate... his friends, his enemies... for all of us. [He shakes his head, looking up slightly.] And that, Comrades, is absolutely unique here, and this thing that he believed in? That I only ever saw as this weird, unpleasant tendency? This thing that got him into trouble and made his life hard and that irritated me? That was the same thing that he got his strength from, and that made him believe that it was important to be that kind of person.

[Prefect frowns now, his forehead knitting slightly, as he looks down at his hands.] The thing he got from it... I don't know, I don't know if it made him happy. His life never seemed happy to me. It didn't make him stronger, or more convincing, or smarter than anyone else, but he never gave it up. It was like his faith made him... unstoppable. Indestructible. And it made him a better man than any of us.

[As Prefect speaks, his voice gets a little distant, forlorn even.] Sometimes, I think he must have felt about God, the way I used to feel about the Factory. Only for me... the Factory tore people down, it made them into components, or functions. For Howie, being God's creations elevated people. It made them more than what they were. [He has his arms wrapped around his stomach, and he's looking off Camera a little. His expression is almost sad. Finally, his eyes flick back towards the communicator.]

So, Comrades... I was wondering...

[Prefect visibly steels himself:]

...does anyone know what you have to do to become a Christian?

[Added after speaking to O'Brien, Private to Barron]

Comrade, do I owe you a drink?
buywithme: (declanpout)


I mean, post-graduate Comrades... or... long term resident institutionalized Comrades, or really just anyone who thinks this makes sense to them. Do you ever feel like... I mean, did anyone else start out disliking it here and thinking that it was entirely wrong, then eventually came around to thinking that even though they weren't happy here, maybe what was happening and what the wardens were doing was something that needed to happen, and then eventually, if you started to think that it was entirely right, what was happening here, did thinking that you were doing the right thing by being here make you begin to like it?

[That probably didn't make sense, did it? Let's try again.]

I mean, what I meant to say was that... [Fffff, let's try for some context on why he's worrying here:]

Back home in the Factory I didn't really have friends. Or books, or alcohol, or hobbies, or free will. And I didn't technically get paid for my work, and everything I did was evil, but I was happy and I felt fulfilled because I believed that what I was doing was right. So, I guess what I'm saying, Comrades, is that it has come to my attention that I have a tendency to look for validation through my work and that I'm afraid I might have accidentally slipped into being blindly subservient to the Admiral because that is exactly the kind of thing that I could imagine myself doing.

I mean, it could be that I actually like it here and that I really do think that being a warden is a good thing, I'm not sure how you're supposed to tell the difference in these circumstances, Comrades.

[Private to O'Brien]

Comrade, did you know you can put alcohol in coffee?
buywithme: (declanpout)
[Video clicks on, and Prefect is sitting in a slightly cleaned up, but still slightly scorched bedroom. He's still dressed in clothes he borrowed from the Doctor, but he's clean shaven again, and while his expression is ponderous, he looks to be more or less calm.]

Comrades, I know that this has happened before, but does anyone else think that it's slightly suspect that the journal system is presumably malfunctioning so shortly after-- [STATIC, STATIC] --plete blackout? Comr-- [STATIC] --onsumers! These are the--[STATIC STATIC STATIC AND WHO DO WE HAVE HERE?]

[The image of Prefect is replaced by video footage of a man who... well, who looks remarkably like Prefect. He's got glasses on, and a little more stubble... but he's definitely got kind of a Prefectish look to him.

...and he appears to be talking to someone off Camera.]

All I'm saying is, we've had three solar flares in the last week, this transmission is coming from the dead center of the Bermuda triangle, and your childhood friend just happens to be doing a local ultrasound survey? No. Nuh uh. Not buying this as a coincidence.

[There's a woman's voice from somewhere off camera, and not!prefect sounds indignant.]

The truth might be out there! Look, I'm not saying it definitely is, but c'mon, you've gotta admit this is weird, right?

[The woman says something else, but the exact words are inaudible. Not!Prefect jabs a finger off camera, trying to demand her attention.]

Hey! This has nothing to do with the X-files marathon that was on last night! And... E.T. just so happens to be a great movie, with... with many valuable anthropological insights!

[His volume increases slightly towards the end, as if he's trying to project his voice to a swiftly retreating audience, but it's too late. Whoever he was talking to has clearly ragequit the conversation. Not!Prefect gives an irritable little huff, and lets his shoulders sag.

There's more static, and the video returns to regular Prefect, who is just... staring blankly now. Just staring and staring. Way to have a new clone, Prefect.]
buywithme: (shower1)
[Audio clicks on. Prefect's getting all geared up to give a big speech, like he always does when anything within a three mile radius of the barge somehow offends him.

A couple of deep breaths are taken.

There's a long pause, then a low, wordless groan. There's a slight creaking sound, footsteps, then a sudden crash, and a loud banging sound, like things falling, then something being beaten against wood. Inaudible muttering is just about picked up by the feed, as Prefect is apparently talking to himself. There's another crash, followed a louder, more frustrated groan, then more crashing. The sound of boxes falling goes on for a while.

Finally, most of the noise subsides, and there's just a rhythmic thudding sound. This sound continues on for a while.]

[ooc: SO, Harvey left. Prefect was going to make a post of his usual thinly veiled whining, but when he got to the point of actually having to make the post, and say things about Harvey being gone? Just how he felt about it suddenly hit home, and he found himself suddenly incapable of verbalizing the scale of his feelings about this.

So he had a quiet tantrum, wrecked his room up, and is now bashing his head against a wall c:

Feel free to spam if your character knows where he is/would want to personally investigate this matter!]


Apr. 21st, 2010 02:46 pm
buywithme: (Oh.)
Comrades! Consumers! Let us never be disheartened by recent traumas and let us remember that this kind of thing happens all the time here. We lose our identities, and we turn on each other, and we forget who we are, and we vanish into the aether and we... we continue, Comrades. We persist.

I've started to think that when the floods aren't too traumatic, and when we don't fall overboard into ports that want to kill us, and when people aren't trying to kill one another quite so enthusiastically, and when the vampires aren't starving and when there are no bears around...


I don't think I hate it here anymore.

Sometimes... sometimes, someone'll say something, or do something, or ask me to do something, and... I'll know that it's wrong. I'll know that there's a regulation against it somewhere, but... I don't remember what it is anymore. I don't remember why I can't do it anymore. I still miss my home. I miss the Factory, but sometimes I don't-- I don't remember what it is I miss about it. The details are fuzzy, I can't pick them out as well anymore.

It scares me, Comrades, but this place is starting to feel like my home.

[Filtered away from people who he knows won't want him to have alcohol]

There is very little I wouldn't do for something to drink, right now.

Private to self

Message Number 100, issued. It seems like such a small number, when I've been here so long.
buywithme: (Perhaps you'd like to invest instead?)
Comrades! You're missing the point of this! Now at last can one of the most illustrious and well established pieces of barge Canon finally be confirmed or denied!

Doctor, In Re: 'The Masters Penis', it is the equivalent in size too:

a) A darning needle

b) A spool of yarn

c) A Bobbin.
buywithme: (facepalm)
Brothers, Sisters, how much do you think happens in a year? I mean, things-- things just pass you by, don't they? Even if a celebrity dies it's only news for a few weeks, a month and a half at the most and then everyone's distracted by whatever else is happening. Once they've been dead for a whole year? It's like, a completely different world. Everything's changed. Even if they were still alive everything would be different and so would they be.

They'd be forever confined to a separate dimension of "when they were famous", and "best of the 20's", and they'd only ever get work as a novelty act.

A years a really long time in the real world. You miss it and then its just gone. Ater a year you're all rotted away anyway. Comrades, Consumers, consider the concept of "vintage".

Or... something.



buywithme: (Default)

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