buywithme: (Perhaps you'd like to invest instead?)
Comrades! Con-- Ah, Friends!

[Video clicks on, and lo, it is Prefect! He's squared the camera up neatly, and is sitting at his desk. His clothes are comfortable businesswear, and he's... pretty evidently about to do some serious business talk at you]

I have been thinking about ways by which we could potentially improve the general understanding of concerns and needs within pairings and on board the barge! As we know, wardens here receive no specific training or direction in terms of how to assist their inmates, and while this has allowed each inmate to have their own individual needs catered too, it has also resulted in wardens often being ill equipped to respond to the needs of their inmates, or unable to identify common mistakes or problems which are effecting their inmates!

[He's slowly becoming a little more gestural and excited as he speaks, and there's a kind of forceful earnestness in what he's saying.]

These errors are not made out of malice, but none the less their impact on inmates can hamper, or even reverse the personal progress and improvement for which we are striving here, and I believe that they can be drastically reduced with a more organized approach to the sharing of common problems, experiences, and expertise! [The gestures are getting bigger, slightly more jerk-y and rhythmic, and his enthusiasm is just still GROWING.]

Please find attached a short anonymous survey requesting insight into people's experiences and opinions on their progress here, and their perceptions of the mechanics of the Barge. I mean to collect, collate, and publish the responses, in an attempt to identify regularly occurring problems and trends within the Barge's population, so that I can compile them into a document to assist newly arriving wardens and inmates. Perhaps we will eventually be able to develop an effective induction to those working here, for the benefit of all!

So Comrades! Brothers and Sisters! [He's getting downright bombastic at this point.] Please reject the hypothesis that struggling wardens are lacking in commitment or in the desire to help their inmates! Reject the idea that inmates who do not improve on the barge are deliberately resisting progress! We live within a flawed system which we have a duty to endeavor to improve! Embrace the healing power of standardized testing and anonymous data collection! Redemption through correlation! Let our standards be outstanding!

[He gives a wide, joyful little grin, then quickly adds in a hushed deadpan:]

All responses will remain entirely anonymous for the protection of respondents and their pairings, and any details which could compromise the anonymity of participants will be edited out or remain unpublished. If you have a specific concern with your warden or inmate which you require direct assistance or a direct response too please feel free to refer to the suggestion and/or complaint box and I will endeavor to otherwise meet your needs!

[And with that, he smiles again (bright as a malfunctioning floodlamp) and signs off.]

THE ATTACHED SURVEY: )
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: (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: (The Factory owns the world)
[Filtered to all inmates]

Brothers, Sisters, the time is now. We make our stand and take this place, or we die trying. We have numbers, we have supplies, and we have weapons. Anyone who's interested in making a stand, get to the dining room. First we fortify, then we fight.



[Posted about half an hour later, public.]


Attention all wardens:

This is a declaration of war.

The recent inter-dimentional rift you have been so desperately claiming isn't a flood has given us enough allies to stand a chance against you. More importantly, it has given us not just the dream, but the certainty that a better world is still out there somewhere! And with the knowledge that such a world is possible, there comes not just the drive, not just the call, but the duty as breathing inhabitants of this imperfect universe, not to try and reach that distant better world, but to create one of our own.

We will fight for it, and we will die for it, but this time none of us will die alone! And when you cut one man down then pray that this world is not changed enough already for him to rise up again in a hail of bullets!

We have taken the dining room. All food and medical supplies are under our control.

Come, surrender your weapons and items and you will be treated fairly. Everyone who stands against us will be killed without mercy or hesitation.



[ooc: Riot was moved to the dining room when it was pointed out to prefect that the medical supplies had already been ransacked! Feel free to respond and reply here, but I'm putting up a log for the actual riot now, so no spamming!]
buywithme: (You bought it!  Good choice!)
Comrades!

It seems you are returning to our fair collective with empty heads, but fret not, let your hearts be as full as your minds are vacant! For what are memories but the illusory dwelling on that which is dead and gone? Comrades let us not mourn the death of history, and instead stand together at the breach of today! For have we not earned the splendor of this moment from the toils of our obsolete past? Do we not deserve a life exempt from guilt or shame from former errors? Would it not be so much easier to forgive and forget if the indiscretion itself were to be erased?

Brothers and sisters step away from the vintage, the second hand, the reconditioned and the antique, these are but the obsolete clinging of a past that has failed you, bid your imprisoning memories farewell and think only of the new, the newer, the cutting edge and LOVE IT before it too becomes the hated past!

The breach is now, the breach is tomorrow, so once more unto the breach my friends!

-Prefect


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buywithme: (Perhaps you'd like to invest instead?)
[After spending some time pouring over the confused first entries of others, Prefect decides to announce himself with flare.]

Comrades!

Consumers!

Allow me to extend my fondest and most sincere greetings to you from the end of history! I’m quite sure you know my name: Prefect. Are we not the most highly favored of all our kinds to be here? In this, our new chance? Our new and open doorway? The compilation of not only millennia of history and experience, but worlds upon worlds of variety and flavor, all compressed into one microcosmic existence? Lain out for us on a platter? Let us not mourn our misfortune or dream of escape, but rather, let us combine and create and expand in our scope and diversity! Once more unto the breach my friends once more! Let us immanentize the eschation!

Brothers, sisters, comrades, buy with me.

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Prefect

October 2013

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