Prefect

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!]

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?

[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.]

[Video clicks on, annnnd yes, Prefect is still sitting at Barron's bedside in the infirmary. There's a small pile of Prefect-y posessions now flanking the bed, and an additional blanket folded over the end of Barron's bed. Because apparently he's just living here now.

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

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

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

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

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

[Private to Nathan Petrelli]

Do you like valenti--

Has anyone brought you a rosebu--

I made you a ca--

Do you like pink champa--

...

By the way, Comrade, has anyone shown you around the warden areas yet?

[Private to the Admiral]

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

[Private to Edward Nygma]

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

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

[BECAUSE HE IS BETTING YOU'VE FORGOTTEN THAT THEY COME BACK :C]

[Added later: Private to Wardens]

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

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

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

PLEASE DON'T KILL BARRON, HE IS LYING!

He doesn't have his powers back, he didn't force anyone to surrender any cakes at dinner time, please don't kill him just because...

[Pause]

[Filtered away from Barron]

Just because he's kind of an idiot.

[Another pause, then, in an exasperated outburst that may have been coming for some time:]

...God, what's wrong with him? Why is he so strange? How could he possibly think that this is a good, sneaky plan? Why would he do this, Comrades? I used to be an inmate, I never did anything this ridiculous!

[Pause as he considers that.]

I never did anything this ridiculous that was going to get myself hurt.

[...Actually...]

Or, when I did, I did it for ideological reasons rather than because I thought it was a good idea!

[SIIIIIIGH]

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.