Prefect

[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.]

[Click, and hey! It’s some video footage! Prefect is sitting in front of the camera, looking almost dementedly gleeful, and... what’s that piled high around him? But the cheap, tacky, Factory branded trappings of valentines day. Or at least, some of it is, some of it, on the other hand, is just stuff that Prefect has painted pink and is apparently hoping will blend in.

Pink hammer, pink ladle, pink ball, pink empty gin bottle, whatever, it’s all the colour of love.]

Comrades! Consumers!

Do not be disheartened by news of your recent demise and arrival upon an interdenominational prison ship which will strip away any semblance of your personality and confidence in the name of moral rehabilitation! And do not be curtailed from your pursuit of happiness by the recent murders, suicides and death threats being issued by your fellow inmates and/or wardens! Most importantly, do not be dismayed or distressed by those amongst you who would claim that Valentines day is a meaningless slew of commercial consumerist trash, because Comrades! [His face falls, suddenly completely deadpan and serious] That is the best thing about it.

[THEN SUDDENLY THE MANIC, RICTUS, FACTORY STYLE GRIN IS BACK]

Comrades, this Valentines day don’t sulk about your lack of popularity or mental and physical wellbeing! Don’t celebrate with a cynical lack of gift and card delivery, leaving those you admire with no physical token in recognician of their fantastic beauty! Don’t bemoan the commercialism of it all when you’re living in a society reduced to the crudest of bartering! But stand tall with me, in the glorious pink light of this most sacred of holidays, and buy with me!

Comrades, in this remarkable, one day only sale, I am offering a selection of immaculately produced, Factory standard greeting cards and romantic items, for the low low price of... [PAUSE. Apparently he hadn’t thought this far ahead in his sales pitch. Eventually, he raises his eyebrows and grins a little wider] ...almost anything! What’s that? You don’t think your significant other would appreciate any of these remarkable gifts? Well, don’t underestimate the versatility of our stores! The Facto-- Uh, the former Factory outlet point insists on the highest possible standards of service! Make our Valentines Day a happy one, by making your Valentines Day a happy one.

[And with that, he picks up the bright pink hammer, and turns it, so that the camera gets a nice clear shot of the nicely calligraphed “I Love You”, which Prefect has clearly written along the side of it. There is a long, long, pause. Then he realizes that maybe he shouldn’t be giving hammers to inmates, and quickly adds:]

Some items may be subject to restricted sales, no income from sales will actually go to the Factory, and no item or items actually guarantee a happy valentines day or positive reception from the recipient and a negative reception will not be accepted as grounds for a refund.

[A camera clicks on, and the first thing you see is an EXTREME CLOSE UP of Prefects face. It's still blotched with dark purple from the bruises Sylar gave him, but he seems to have forgotten all about them. He grins.]

Comrades! Consumers! Allow me to present the absolute cutting edge of-- of-- [of things he just found rummaging drunkenly through his boxes] Of the avaunt-garde. [The cutting edge of the avaunt-garde! You know this is gonna be good! Prefect fumbles with something off camera, and it becomes apparent that not for the first time, he's video posting in his underwear. Shifting back away from the screen, he produces...this thing!]

Aesthetically pleasing, definitively modern, and... [He fiddles with it a bit, and suddenly it lights up] Oh! And functional! Comrades, can you even imagine having to spend the duration of your lives without this essential design masterpiece to invigorate your lives and elevate the appearance of your homes? [Prefect notices something then, and seems to lose interest in the camera for a moment while he investigates it. Prefect pokes at part of the thing, frowning] Sticky? Why is it... sticky? [Then he remembers that the Camera is still rolling and grins again] I'll tell you why! Because that's the texture of freshness!

[Prefect looks terribly pleased with himself. Then he hiccough's, then he gently lolls to the side, as though his intoxication has somehow encourage him to surrender the battle against gravity.]

[Prefect starts this sales pitch with the kind of forced happiness for which he's famed!]

Comrades! Consumers! In this time of holiday cheer, it's important for us to remember what's important! And what is important, is that we have relics of our existence. Things. Things that we bought. Or that someone else bought, or things we picked up in places we paid to go visit. Things that we want. Just... things. The thing is, they aren't just things. They're not just things to anyone, they're status symbols, or badges of honor or curiosity or popularity, or they're memories of the time you bought them, the time that you wanted them desperately and loved them honestly, and let them define you, even if it's only for a few seconds, before you forget they're even there at all.

They still matter, they make you- and, and it's not just objects, Comrades, it's not just objects, it's other things as well. Objects are the best way for us to understand it, the most accessible way to really own something, but it's not just objects, it's about our bodies as well, about the tattoo you got on your butt when you and your boyfriend thought that cartoon kittens would be the "in thing" forever, and it's the holes running down the skin of your arms from when you tried suspension therapy, and it's the sick feeling you get in your stomach when you smell bananas because even though you can't remember that time when you were five years old and you ate a pot of banana lip gloss, it's still there...

[His voice drops a little so he's mumbling. Prefect appears to have forgotten that he's actually making this public.]

Stupid, like being afraid of people you know don't want to hurt you

[And it perks back up a little! For a moment, you get Factory standard happy!Prefect, before he fades back into his usual voice]

You break it, you buy it! And you bought it so long ago you don't even know why it's there, but it still is. It doesn't care whether you still want it, it's still there, it still matters. It's your scars, and you might not like it, and you might not want it, but if it just... if it just disappears then that's a piece of you disappearing, and if you can just keep disappearing piece by piece then in the end what's left of you? If you aren't even yourself anymore, then how can you belong to anything? How can you ever belong anywhere but here?

[There's a long pause, and when he speaks again his voice is sort of distant, like he's moved away from the microphone.]

This place, this place isn't about fixing us. It's just about taking away our scars.




[ooc: Prefect found Pavi's room empty, and TO HIS CREDIT, only had a few drinks from those bottles of wine he got off Paddy and Snoop all those months ago. He intended to give a rousing sales pitch here, but it descended into sulking pretty quick :c]

Comrades! Consumers! This week only we're holding a special sale on jet black hair dye! Who needs more than one colour? Who cares for red, or blonde, or brown? When you can have the deep, rich tones of the night sky embedded in your image? Brothers, Sisters, do not allow yourselves to be detained disappointed or deceived into dying your hair whatever Colour is mixed with the shampoo in the communal showers! Reach out, demand, buy with me today, and go back to black!

[Prefect used the stupid shampoo, but Factory regulations only support pink hair if everyone has it, so he dyed it black, and thus will have black hair for a few weeks!]

Comrades! Consumers! Haven't we had a flood of unfamiliar faces lately? Well allow me to personally greet each and every one of you to the Barge. My name is Prefect, and I am the sole operator of the Factories single outlet here.

Comrades, I know this may be difficult for you, I know that you've awoken in a strange new place, far from home, I know you feel pressured and dominated and confused, but brothers, sisters, do not let your hearts be troubled. This place will tear at your minds and your hearts, destroy your body and each time allow you to rise from the ashes of that flesh like a scalding phoenix from the flames, it is a place forever in flux, forever changing. It is impermanent. The only way now to anchor ourselves is to build our own physical empires, Comrades, you are no longer your body or your mind or your primitive notions of soul, you are only what you surround yourself with! That is what abides, that is what remains.

So Comrades, Consumers, Brothers and Sisters, do not dwell in the realm of ever fleeting consciousness, but rather buy with me, the building blocks of who or what you are so that when your mind is torn away from you your foundations are still firm! Bicycles, balaclavas, ballet shoes, blue-ray players, boxer shorts, bottles, berets, baskets, basketballs, just a small number of the things we currently have in stock, and Comrades if we are unable to find what you require in our existing stores then rest assured, our staff will do literally whatever is possible to acquire what you need elsewhere, and all of this for the lowest prices possible.

Comrades, in the hours of your discontent, in the moments when this place at the end of time and space and history tries to drag you apart, ask yourself this:

Will I be lost? Will I be the one who falls first with no solid hold to grip onto? Will my mind be the first not to return?

Comrades, do not let it be so. Buy with me today, and we shall chain ourselves to this reality with the endless glory of commerce and products, in this ever fluctuating reality, we shall build our own, buy with me now, and make it so.

[Private to Jayne]

Comrade? I've been asked to contact you on behalf of someone who wishes to remain anonymous.

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!

Amen.

Oh The days are long and we might see red
But after you've done work, and you've been fed
For a peaceful place to rest down your head
You can't do better than a Prefect bed!

[Prefect is just sort of pottering about in his bed shop, he'll probably go home soon, or he might pick one of his beds and have a little sleep in it. If anyone wants him, this is where to find him!]

Comrades! Consumers! Is not this day a glorious day? Are not our hearts and closets filled with the promises or new life? Of different life? Do we not each and every day live out the deep seated longing to be someone, nay, ANYONE but our own oh so fragile selves? Well Comrades the time is now, or is the time not always? Tomorrow, when you don your costume, and for just one night become what you imagine yourself as, consider this: you ARE your jacket.

You ARE your hat.

You are your perfume, your jewelry, your non conformist tee-shirt, you are your ironic shell suit! Which brand of trainers define you as a person? Which product is YOUR product? And is it better than your comrades products? If not, UPGRADE! I'm having a special offer on...

...Well, actually the Factory store is closed at the moment due to stock issues and the absence of a door, but think about it anyway.

...I guess theoretically I could sell you these cat ears the Admiral left here, they come with a detachable tail?

Comrades! Brothers! Sisters! Brothers who are sisters and sisters who were brothers! I know you're all secretly loving this! In regards of the sudden and spectacular rearranging of our needs, I would like to let you all know that for the next day I will be selling feminine hygiene products and masturbatory aides at a price that is practically GIVING THEM AWAY!

This may never happen again, never before have I said "seize the day" and meant it so very much!