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: (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
buywithme: (Bruised prefect)
Comrades, If you should encounter a situation in which my inmate: "Barron Sharpe" is aggressively removing his gloves at you, I would like to officially authorize punching him as an acceptable preventative measure against his trying to hold your hand.

Under no circumstances should you allow him to hold your hand.
buywithme: (Puppy dog eyes)
Is this--


Comrades? Are we--

[There's a long pause.]

I have-- cons--



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.

[Ooc: Okay, so Prefect is back, and where he was that week lasted a lot longer than it did here. As such, he's worried that the people he knew will have all either graduated or just vanished off. Instead of being sensible and asking, he's re-written his original greeting post in case he's just surrounded by strangers.]
buywithme: (Shocked)
[The screen flickers on, and Prefect is sat in front of the camera with his fingers steepled together. Every two seconds or so, he moves his hands, to drum the fingers against each other in a mechanically practiced motion.]

And Prefect proceeds to dance LONG AND HARD. )
buywithme: (un-fake smile!)
Kirk! Comrade! Brother! Let me be the first to congratulate you on transcending the workplace standard! We regret to inform you that your time with the Factory is coming to a conclusion, and with the return of your predecessor you are being released back into the unallocated pool of wardens.

Sam came back. You'll get reassigned soon.


May. 9th, 2009 08:57 pm
buywithme: (Bruised prefect)
[Prefect wouldn't just by random coincidence ask for Sam over the journals, so I'm going to say that he was going to see Sam to ask him for something completely irrelevant and found the room empty. No crossing out in the writing because he did it all in his head first, and no, he's not mentioning that this was brought on by Sam leaving.]

Comrades! Consumers! Is not progress the most beautiful of all things? And are we few? We united and divided few not elevated to the most supreme and final conclusion of this progress? Is this not the route to enlightenment? Do not despair for absence is the inevitable, those we think we can depend on are not our friends but our competitors, those who have discovered the currency with which to purchase freedom from progress and return to history. Comrades, when the world gives you what you want you don't care about those you promised not to leave behind! Comrades, when we give you what you really want? You won't care who you leave behind either.

So don't sit around screaming at the Barge or The Admiral or each other over the absent friends and lost lovers you just assumed would always be there? Instead observe this decay as incentive, The only things that you cna keep are the things that you own, not the things you love or the things you think you mean or the things you think love you, only the great eternal product, the purchase, the item, COMRADES! This is the end! This is how it is concluded! And getting better or caring more or suffering more WILL NOT SAVE YOU! So fill your death with the things that will. The things you get to keep, the things that don't stay with you under the pretence of love, but rather the honesty of ownership. Comrades, let us never again affect, but rather amass! Let us forget the decaying ideals that keep betraying us and move forward to buy, posess, contain, and rejoice in the constant, because the gods are dead and the last of them walked out of here weeks ago and everyone will leave you.

Comrades, this is the universes entire selling point, if you depend on the things you can keep you will die with nothing. This way? My way? At least it's a kind of nothing you can hold in your hand.


Feb. 22nd, 2009 01:02 am
buywithme: (facepalm)
Comrades! Consumers! The Factory would like to absolutely and categorically apologize for the complete failure of its staff to function in any reasonable capacity during the events of the week before last. Rest assured there were severe external influences disrupting the capabilities of its current outlet and staff body and the appropriate reprimands and restorative programs are currently being undertaken.

We would like to take this moment to reassure all our customers that this was an isolated incident and the recent decline in behavioral standards which the Factory requires of it's work force will definitely not be continuing. Despite the mitigating circumstances of this particular collapse of professionalism, we are ensuring that our staff attend a rigorous program of retraining and customer service specialization, to ensure the highest possible service for you! Our valiant and valued brothers and sisters, still living the immaculate dream of the blossoming consumer!

Comrades, let us never lose sight of the great glories of possession and obedience, above and beyond the frailty of our rotting bodies and fleeting allegiances, our broken hearts and our unfulfilled dreams, our dead parents and our meaningless names. Comrades, history is dead and the barge is its tomb. Nothing here has meaning, nothing here survives the ever strengthening vortex of it's function. Comrades, the phrase: "You can't take it with you when you go." no longer applies, because there is nowhere else to go! Forget your outdated notions of family and faith and freedom because all your abstract concept riches are back where you came from and you can never leave this place. Here, it doesn't matter how beautiful your wife is or how intelligent your beloved children are, or how fulfilling you find your job, because none of them exist anymore. Here? The winner is the man with the most stuff. Here, the only things left in the universe that will last, are possessions, and obedience.

Newcomers, welcome to the Barge.

This is an official Factory announcement, there are no golden shores.


[ooc: Annnnd we're back in action! Huzzah! Prefect has been doing some serious thinking and re-educating himself over the last week, this is his eventual response to the last flood!]
buywithme: (You bought it!  Good choice!)
Comrades, donate blood if you want! Donate blood if you really think that a bunch of starving vampires are going to stop at a pile of plastic baggies when they storm into a barge full of delicious warm living entities!

For those interested in a proactive alternative? I currently have a stock of hand carved stakes, crosses, and a small stockpile of garlic for interested parties!

Considering our current situation? I will most certainly be accepting IOU's.

[Stakes are about as sharp as Prefect was able to get them by demolishing his bedframe and trying to sharpen small pieces of it on his generally non-lethal belongings. They are, however, probably better than nothing. I'm still mostly without a laptop, so don't expect speedy replies! Everyone else updates and tags will start happening again on sunday!]
buywithme: (My shirt tries to escape?  You buy it?)
Comrades! Consumers! The Factory would just like to remind you that over the passing months its staff have shown absolute dedication to fulfilling your various needs, zero breaches of our client confidentiality policy, and complete professionalism in dealing with all cases! No matter how disturbing or dangerous you may be, no matter how obscure or impractical your order, and we have always strived to maintain the lowest possible prices for our products!

Now that alternatives are beginning to become available we urge you to remember this standard of service and ask yourself: "Will our competitors do this for you?" Without a lifetime of training to subdue all preference, self preservation, or emotional bias, no other sales unit will be capable or even willing to supply whatever we are able to whomever wants it for whatever purpose, and still maintain absolute privacy even on pain of great personal loss and/or sacrifice.

Remember - Just because she's trying to sell you things, doesn't mean she's me!
buywithme: (Calm Prefect)
[Private to Bond]

The Factory would like to apologize for the lateness of this reply to the order you placed with us, unfortunately, our staff were temporarily out of action shortly after your order was placed, and due to paperwork difficulties we have been unable to process your order until now.

You want a gun, no bullets, for your inmate? Things like that are fairly hard to come by, and I can't promise that I'll be able to get one, but if I can? You'll be the first one I contact.

[Private to The Marquis]

...Could I ask you something?
buywithme: (Calm Prefect)
Comrades! Consumers! Merry Christmas one and all! We would like to take this opportunity to announce that despite feeling general goodwill and cheer towards all men and women in this festive holiday season, neither the Factory nor its representatives are able to accept donations from any of our paying customers or our Warden.

Please come to your nearest designated Factory outlet at your earliest convenience, where you will be able to reclaim your gifts.

[Prefect has politely left the plant and the fabric outside his door for Sam and Harvey to come and take them back. Although he did it with a little reluctance. Interestingly, he appears to have deemed that the tax return is not a gift, and is busily working on it.

While wearing the Doctors Scarf.

Which he may never take off.]

Added later:

[Private to the Admiral]

Is the Barge for sale?

[Private to the Doctor]

Is your spaceship for sale?

[Private, just to himself]

In retrospect this is probably not something I should have pretended I might be able to do...
buywithme: (Perhaps you'd like to invest instead?)
Comrades! Consumers!

Are you feeling the sting of loss in your life? The desperate cravings of inadequacy? Has your warden cut you off from something you long for and miss, or your inmate made it impossible to enjoy one of your former pleasures? Brothers, sisters, such times sting all of us at some point, but let these losses not deter us from our purer functions! Let them not drive us into states of brooding disapproval or let us search for an unmatchable fulfillment in our own souls! No, for doing this will only drag us deeper into the mindless quagmire of our own stinging loss! Comrades, instead let us ask ourselves why? What would really cure this pain? Not sitting alone in our rooms, nor distracting ourselves with the idle pleasures of company, NO Comrades! Do not be fooled by the blithe bragging of snake oil salesmen promising you gain through loss! Don't listen to the clamoring priests and evangelicals of loneliness and self indulgence! Comrades, the ache of loss is a physical manifestation of your own, wounded being, and can only be solved by the glorious deliverance of commerce!

Of products, Comrades!

It is in this spirit of hope that the Factory is forced to announce a brief intermission of access to our current stock. Know that we too feel the absence of that which we are cut off from, and that we will be there in sympathy and availability in your own times of hardship! Please direct any and all orders to our on site staff, who will endeavor to provide the very best of service even through this difficult period.

Comrades, believe always in strength through commerce! Through the bonds of the corporate family we are made whole, If you can not buy with me today, buy with me tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, once more unto the breach, and onto every breach!



buywithme: (Default)

October 2013



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