Prefect

hittin' the road at last.

Tue, 01 Oct 2013 10:26:44 GMT

[Video clicks on, and what is by now an unfamiliar face to most appears. Prefect has become reclusive in the last several months, socializing very little, and only really leaving his cabin to eat, drink, and work on Barron's graduation. Only now Barron is graduated, so there'll be no more of that last one. He lifts a hand to offer a small wave, but is clearly a little uncomfortable.]

So, Barron's graduated.

[He speaks slowly, as if choosing his words exceptionally carefully. It's the exact opposite to how he was when he arrived, years ago.]

Barron's graduated, and... I'm tired, and I want to leave now. But Comrades... This place...

[He glances away and swallows, knitting his forehead as he searches for what he's trying to say. Finally, he settles.]

...It's been an honour. Knowing you, has been an honour. Surviving it has been an honour. This place might be the end of history, and it might be hell, or purgatory, and I don't know if it's right or not right now? But seeing it through has been an honour.

[He pauses, then bows his head a little.]

And I hope you all get out and go home someday.

[And with that, the video ends.]

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Spam for Barron

Sun, 01 Sep 2013 02:44:59 GMT

[Prefect didn't leave a particularly wide opening between finding out about Cassel's graduation, and going to hunt down Barron. He exchanged a few messages with the Transformation Worker, then set off to find his own inmate.

He made a bee line for Barron's room, and rapped on the door carefully. Unsure if Barron would be upset or happy at whatever passed between himself and Cassel, Prefect lingered in the corridor, probably concerned to a point that wasn't entirely due.]

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OPEN SPAM - Keep the windows shut, lest your soul go slipping out...

Sun, 05 May 2013 20:05:00 GMT

[Dotted throughout the forest, you might find some rather unusual statues, for an island unpopulated by humankind. There are small ones, of the native flora and fauna, tiny sculptures of dainty marsupials, or pieces of carefully carved fruit dropped at the feet of certain trees.

More noticable though, are the sculptures of men! Some weathered down to the point of being almost featureless, wile others, preserved by their landscape, clean and crisp as the day they were carved, every detail on their naval uniforms picked out perfectly.

In one particular clearing there's a cluster of them sitting together in a circle, as if they're huddling around a campfire that isn't there. These three are smiling, holding perfectly carved food and ale, and all turned to look in a single direction. If you stand where they're staring, it's almost as if they're welcoming you to join them. Another is frozen mid step, his arms spread wide and expression wide and happy, as if greeting a beloved brother.

Most of the statues are like these ones, their uniforms are perfect. They are well kempt and healthy looking. They are happy to see you.

There are others where the men look surprised, or shaken. As if caught unawares. They usually look a little more bedraggled. Hungrier, and more huddled.

In a few of the statues, the men look truly frightened. Where their clothes are torn or gone completely, where stone tears are frozen on their stone faces, wrought in anguish. But only a few.

After all, not many of them survived long enough to even know that there was something to fear.

Prefect picks his way through the maze of jungle, stumbling between trees and trudging through ditches, with his eyes shut. He's shirtless, but his ragged trousers are black and stiff. The formal wear of a naval officer. He uses the statues as landmarks to direct himself to certain trees and bushes that bear fruit, then digs blindly through the foliage for something to eat.

He doesn't open his eyes.]

[OOC: HA HA SO I COMPLETELY FAILED AT PLOTTING FOR THIS EVENT AND THEN HAD A MOMENT OF INSPIRATION LATE LAST NIGHT. Sorry :c

Anyway, Prefect is the Midshipman of a naval vessel that was shipwrecked here over a year ago. The night they landed he was cursed by one of the local monstrosities, so that every living thing he turned his gaze upon turned to stone. (Apart from grass and trees. Deal with it.)

Slowly but surely, he turned his entire crew to stone. Since then he's shedded his shirt and jacket to make blindfolds, but the island's inhabitants always steal them, and he's had a couple of goes at poking his eyes out (they grow back). Eventually he resigned himself to staggering around the island with his eyes closed, being terrorized by the natives and grieving for his lost Comrades. Feel free to assume cr, either from TORMENTING ISLAND CREATURES, or WHAT HO DIDN'T WE SERVE ON THE MAGNANIMOUS TOGETHER, from naval types.]

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172 - /drops mic. A departure post.

Fri, 29 Mar 2013 03:41:46 GMT

Comrades--

[Prefect blinks, takes a deep breath, and says directly:]

Comrades, I'm leaving.

The CES, the pub, the pool... When I first arrived, these things weren't here. There was a staff of strange employees without faces, who cooked the food, and cleaned the facilities. If you acted out, you didn't go to level zero. Instead, your warden took away your door.

I've seen doors vanishing over the last few weeks, and It just makes me think...

[Prefect lifts a hand, to rub at his eyes. He's frowning, expression concentrated and unhappy. Behind him, Barron is only just in shot. He's sitting on the edge of Prefect's bed, writing something on his forearm in sharpie.]

Among other things, It took a huge act of violence, to make the Barge change as much as it has. It took corruption and abuse from the wardens to make the Admiral decide to make this place the way it should be. I wish I could believe, with the same conviction that the rest of you seem have, that it isn't him doing this.

[He drops his hand down, and written across the back of his wrist are the words: "THESE ARE THE NAMES OF THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE:" The beginning of the first name peeks out above the cuff of his shirt sleeve, before vanishing down his arm.]

But I can't help myself from thinking that he's just changed his mind. Maybe he just doesn't think we're organized or angry enough anymore to stop him, and maybe he's right.

[Prefect touches two fingers to his heart, lightly. ] That's the problem with showing the people the light though. Brothers, Sisters, it's blinding. And once you know-- once you understand for the first time in your life that might does not make right, when you see someone act like it does again... You can't just fall into line and accept the new regime. I can't just accept this.

I know that doing the right thing, the really right thing, would be to stay, and maybe to fight. To get us organized again, if that's what it takes. To fight him, if we have too. But I know there are people here who can do that. I know that you can do that, Arthas. I'm just sorry that I'm not staying to help you, Comrade. [He takes a deep breath, and he shudders. There's more writing on his other hand. "YOUR NAME IS--"]

But he deserves a second chance. He deserves better than this.

[Prefect takes a deep breath, and stands up, grabbing what looks like it might be a set of handcuffs from the desk.]

And I guess-- the last thing that the Barge has taught me? Is that the universe is huge, and connected, and that godlike powers and inter-dimensional travel all exist, and that people who've spanned galaxies and lived for millenia still end up finding each other again, in the end. [Pause] So maybe I'll see you again, Admiral.

[And with a quick flick, Prefect snaps one half of the handcuffs around his wrist, and steps out of sight. Barron up after him, then shifts up off the bed. It's more apparent now that his arms are literally covered in writing, and he lifts a hand to give the camera a quick wave goodbye. He smiles, then follows Prefect off screen.

There's the audible click, of the second cuff closing. Then the feed ends.

ooc: Prefect and Barron just jumped the fuck out a window, they'll be back in the next port!]

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Private to Barron: FORWARD DATED TO TOMORROW/AFTER SHIT GETS REAL.

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 01:29:36 GMT

Comrade?

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.

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Open Spam

Sun, 17 Mar 2013 22:18:10 GMT

[Tap tap tap

Yes, that sound is coming from your window, barge denizen, it is the soft tapping of little fingers on irritatingly water resistant glass.

Tap tap tap

Usually, Prefect is pretty much the last person on the barge who would come tapping at someone's window, trying to lure their out of their room into a watery grave. He's a nice person, and more than that, a man who holds himself up to a high set of moral standards.

Unfortunately, he fell overboard and turned into a mermaid, and he does have a precedent for taking a keen interest in fucking with people when he's been turned into a mermaid. Still, it's probably okay to open your window and talk to him, right?

Tap tap tap

Tap tap tap

Tap tap tap...]

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169 - CONCERNED ABOUT THAT WHOLE ZERO BUSINESS.

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 22:49:52 GMT

Comrades, I'm concerned about the deterioration of the conditions in zero. Having seen some of the outcoming transmissions from inmates [Thank you Sandoval...], I don't feel that we can accept it as a safe or correct way of restraining anyone at the moment, and I'd like to suggest that the current occupants are relocated under guard.

[There's a short pause, then he frowns,]

Ah, am I correct in assuming that they're all basically different varieties of homicidal teenagers at the moment? Would any wardens be willing to contribute their time or their resources to temporarily guarding them elsewhere? Until either their time is served, or the Barge... escalates to a point where we need to occupy ourselves in some other way?

[Because let's be real, Comrades, it's going to get worse before it gets better...]

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168 - Prefect cares more about his job than he does about his pulse

Sat, 02 Feb 2013 00:50:53 GMT

What would you do if your inmate vanished tomorrow?

[This comes pretty much out of the blue, after a LONG PERIOD OF RADIO SILENCE from Prefect. Yep, truth flood forced him out.]

Last time Barron was in a coma, I just... I thought if I behaved as if he was definitely going to wake up then he definitely would. This time-- It's been months, and I don't know why I'm even here if I can't help him. If I can't help him, if after everything we've done, he just vanishes now, then every second I've spent here has been worthless. Because really, one person turning from bad to good at the end of their life doesn't actually bring any objective improvement to the universe. I'm already dead. I've already done my damage.

If I don't help someone to graduate, then I don't earn my deal with the Admiral, and I can't change anything. [There's a long intake of breath, then he lets it out.] But if he disappears-- Comrades, I can't even imagine being able to care this much about anyone else again. I'm a graduate, so I have the choice to ask the Admiral to send me anywhere in the universe to start over. Right now... I'm afraid that Barron is going to disappear, and all I can think to do when he's gone is ask the Admiral to send me after him. Wherever that takes me.

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Spam for Arthas!

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 02:37:48 GMT

[Prefect had lived in Region 10 for so long now that he'd been allowed to customize his cell somewhat. There wasn't much, a few cut out pictures from magazines stuck up on his walls, a verse of poetry he'd been given by Charles taped up beside where he slept. He'd papered the ceiling with photographs of the night sky, over the years filling it right out to the four corners of the room.

When he looked at the stars, he felt as if he could have been anywhere, in a million places at once. It was a good feeling.

It had been two days since his last excursion to the exercise yard, one day since his last session with Professor Xavier, and nearly a month since he'd last been taken to the lab. Most days, he was confined entirely to the four walls around him, but the possibility for change was enough to keep him rising each morning.]

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PRIVATE TO SANTA.

Sat, 22 Dec 2012 03:13:48 GMT

Dear Santa...

( Prefect asks for stuff. )

[Prefect didn't get off board this port, he's just chilling with Barron in the infirmary. ALSO, I am still kind of on a secret hiatus, writing private posts, producing content while not actually being able to get on top of threading rn.]

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166 - A HELPING HELPER HELPS! HELP HIM! HELP HIM!

Fri, 16 Nov 2012 03:47:47 GMT

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: )

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Video/Open Spam

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 01:32:15 GMT

[The video function is switched on in a flurry of wings and tiny feet, and the only shot you get to see, is one of a bat. A bat, retreating down a difficult to identify corridor.

In it's tiny feet claws, there is clutched some kind of vitally important document, which wafts in the breeze behind it.

Over the next several hours, the communicator will continue to record, and the bat makes SEVERAL RETURN JOURNEYS FOR MORE DOCUMENTS. It is seen robbing multiple cabins and from time to time, it drops lumps of guano, like tiny gifts for those who crossed it's path.

After a few hours, the bat is beginning to get tired. It wants to nest in someone's hair! And possibly bite them! It would like to spread a little rabies if it can! But until it can find a suitable nest/victim, it shall continue it's crime spree.]

[Prefect!Bat will totally reply to comments (although he's only understandable to other animals) and any spamming would be glorious!]

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Mafiosing like it's my job!

Thu, 20 Sep 2012 17:16:32 GMT

[Video clicks on, and Prefect's sitting cheerfully in a pleasant but understated office with a typewriter set neatly in front of him.]

Everybody's so doom and gloom nowardays. Hellfire and damnation and all kinds of intemperance and ungodliness in our streets! They'd have you thinking you were living in Chicago or New York for what they say the crime rate is around here.

[He tuts, and shakes his head]

You know, I don't want to be the dissident voice against our brave boys in blue, but there is such a thing as hyper vigilance, you know? [A pleasant laugh] No, I'll tell ya, I've seen Chicago, and I've seen New York, and Redemption is okay. Couple of rough necks here and there, but we've got a good clean police force, a strong church, and all kinds of charity in our streets. There ain't no foothold for gangsters in a community of honest, upstanding, and righteous people like those who live here are.

[He claps his hands together, and, message of goodwill imparted, reaches forward to switch the communicator...]

( ...On to a broad filter for his gang members )

[Wildcard open spam?]

[Prefect is a busy man with a finger in every pie in this town! Do you want to run into him in your speakeasy? In the street? In a secret underground poker game? In his office even? He can be found pretty much wherever it's convenient for him to be, so spam at will.]

[OOC BACKGROUND]

[Prefect Fattoria is a first generation Italian American, and the head of a young criminal gang! He's raised himself a bit of a reputation, recruited Ladd Russo as his right hand man and head enforcer, and is currently waging war on the most established and respected criminal mastermind in Redemption, The Mind!

If you play a criminal/speakeasy owner/etc, then feel free to either assume that you work for him, that you've been targeted by him, or that you're on the list of people YET to be targeted by him. If you play a fed or a cop, feel free to know that he's KIND OF SHADY but that you can't prove it. If you want your character to get murdered this breach... well... Ladd is his right hand man, so lol we are probably your guys for that.]

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Private to the Admiral

Wed, 12 Sep 2012 23:00:54 GMT

Just to clarify: You bringing me back here after I went to see Sam and Pavi when I graduated wasn't the advance fulfillment of my deal as a warden, was it?

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162 - hand on heart. heart still in jar. prognosis: Bad.

Tue, 21 Aug 2012 03:17:22 GMT

Ah-- I'm sorry I've not had a chance to make this announcement sooner, Comrades. Things have been... well, I'm sure you all know how things have been.

[Prefect's voice is a little raw right now, he's sitting on his bed, which is pushed up against the concrete wall of his cabin.]

I've been asked to act as interim warden for Edward Nygma until he's assigned someone permanently, so if there are any problems with his behavior, or if anyone has a problem with him that requires a wardens attention, then please let me know.

[He lifts a hand now, to rub it down over his eyes. He looks tired as hell.]

And-- I know after a port like that, this is probably a very foolish thing to ask, but Comrades, Brothers, Sisters... How are you all?

[The hand shifts around to cup on the back of his neck, and he stares at the communicator, his expression absent, if not unhappy.]

I know some people were able to help each other, while we were down there. Some people were just able to survive. There were a lot of things that I missed, or I couldn't focus on. So-- If anyone wants to talk about any of that, or... about anything at all? I'd be happy too.

Barron? Mr. Nygma? Please let me know how you're holding up?

[Private to Lua, maybe twenty minutes later]

WHY IS IT BACK IN MY ROOM?

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purveyor of beauty, purloiner of teats

Sat, 28 Jul 2012 13:43:54 GMT

[Video clicks on, and look! It's filming a devastatingly handsome young man, as he whispers something in a girls ear. She slides her arm around his waist, leans forward, and they kiss, deeply. The camera wobbles, and it's clear that whoever's filming them probably isn't... supposed to be filming them.]

I did that. I gave him that. My god he was so tragic before I kindly intervened, just some poor unfortunate soul who could barely say his own name without stuttering. Now look at him.

[There's a fond sigh from behind the communicator.]

He has everything he wanted, and I think in this case I was especially generous in the deal I offered. What I asked for was completely useless to him...

[And now the camera swivels back around to Prefect. He's a senior, seventeen and looking quite a bit older by now, and although his legs are currently in... leg form, rather than fin form, there are still scales creeping up his neck, identifying him as not quite human. Currently he's sitting on the grass, quite near to the greenery of the forest.]

We all have problems, don't we. Him, perhaps more than most, but there's something for everyone. Worried about your grades? Have a problem with a teacher? Have a problem with a student? I myself happen to love solving problems. [He rolls over, sprawling onto his back in a rolling, squamous gesture that might have a hint of the tide about it.] I like using my talents to help people. The miserable, lonely, and depressed. Never feel ashamed, dear friends. Never doubt that I am here for you.

[Then he smiles, wide and bright and possibly not entirely genuine.] Do you want to see what he gave me? In exchange for confidence and good looks? [He pushes his shirt up, in one quick motion, and points the camera at his chest.] Ta-Da! See, he was never going to use them for anything and I was getting tired of being the only one who didn't have a set of my own... so...

[The camera focuses, and Prefect's free hand is now pointing at one of his nipples. Yes. Really.]

Even though they're purely decorative, you mammals all seem to think very highly of them, and they were pretty much the only thing he actually had going for him before I intervened, so...

[Shrug. Seems like a pretty generous deal to him.]

[ooc: Prefect is the son of a sea witch (thing Ursula from The Little Mermaid) and he's got a reputation for specializing in transformation magic, love spells, fairy tale bullshit, and a love for bartering, deal making, and contracts. Right now he's lounging around on the grass near the edge of the grounds, feel free to spam if you'd prefer <3]

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Private to Barron - Backdated to shortly after the flood.

Wed, 18 Jul 2012 23:50:52 GMT

Comrade, I have...

...

During the flood, while I was inhabiting your body, I... failed to adequately evade...

Stildyne kissed your mouth, Comrade. While I was in it.

He has assured me that it will not happen again, but I'm still sorry. I didn't mean to get anyone else's mouth on your mouth.

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FLOOD!

Wed, 11 Jul 2012 22:29:13 GMT

[Video clicks on, and it's... Barron? Probably? He's standing in one of the corridors in the Barge and looking sort of bemused.]

Comrades, I realise this probably seems like a strange thing to need help with, but I'm just...

[He turns around, staring off down the corridor, with an expression of increasingly dismayed puzzlement on his face.]

All of these corridors look the same, and I don't... I don't remember which direction I was coming from. Or where... any of the things that I know are here are...

[Prefect and Barron had a FULL BODYSWAP, which means Prefect gets Barron's body, and his tragically swiss cheesed version of a memory. He doesn't actually remember that he's not supposed to look like this.]

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Filtered to Wardens

Thu, 05 Jul 2012 17:47:55 GMT

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.

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Private to both the Admiral and Kirk

Wed, 27 Jun 2012 18:16:02 GMT

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.

Regards,

Prefect

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fourthing dat wall!

Fri, 08 Jun 2012 17:49:15 GMT

[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?

[Pause]

Harvey De--

[He is interrupted by an EAR SPLITTING SHRIEEEEEEEEEEK, and Prefect quickly reaches forward to cut the feed and stop that HORRIBLE NOISE!]

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155 - Video - Prefect stop you are not Howie or Sam

Sun, 27 May 2012 00:35:29 GMT

[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.]

[ooc: YES, PREFECT HAS PUT THE SUGGESTION BOX BACK UP. FEEL FREE TO TROLL THE EVER LOVING HELL OUT OF IT.]

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TWITTER. YEAH I MADE AN ACCOUNT JUST FOR THIS /o\

Mon, 14 May 2012 22:34:01 GMT

[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.]

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ATTENTION ALL STUPID SMELLY PIRATE JERKS. Oh, and Naval Officers.

Thu, 15 Mar 2012 19:28:12 GMT

[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!]

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151 - GeneCo Evangelizing. Posted just as the port is ending.

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 22:07:32 GMT

[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.]

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