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This was really much easier when I was an Inmate and not surrounded by so many horrifically jaded people. Now that I'm respectable and graduated, you people act as though you are accepting of my faults and particularities.

Rob an old man of his fun, why don't you?

[Warden Filter]

[And the Marquis' demeanor shifts with surprising suddenness. Whereas a second before, on the public filter he was his usual, quipping, playful self, he now just looks very tired -- not even just tired, more like he hasn't slept a wink.]

Many of the people that we came against in that port -- perhaps not a vast majority, but many -- are now dead. I cannot account for those that any of you or your Inmates encountered, but I can say that the last time I saw with my own eyes so many men die so quickly and in succession, without the defiances of reality that the Barge affords, it was on the front lines of an actual battle, and these were men that fell to rifles, bayonets and canons, wielded by countless others. Their ends did not come at the hands of a wicked minority.

Those are the horrors that make up my darkest writings.

...Though I will admit, my tales tended to involve more nudity and fewer costumes. [An odd pause, as he looks at something beyond the camera, and he murmurs more to himself] There is something still very--

[And he lets that thought drop. Shakes his head. Continues]

Somehow, I suspect that some of you, or at least your Inmates, did not even bat an eye. I know that mine did not.

I am not asking for advice, merely opinions, personal experiences. What do you, as Wardens, do when the use of Level Zero will serve no real purpose?

(ooc: Since the return to port the Marquis has not ventured out often, save to walk Renate, and he hasn't spoken to anyone or taken visitors.)