231

[impure_tale]

To my fellow Inmates, a short broadcast for the time being:

I would be remiss in my role here if I were not to acknowledge that this ship is on the precipice of change, and for better or worse we know not what lies in store for us. Whatever its outcome, we must continue to entertain the notion that we will remain as we are, and this may gladden the hearts of very few.

It is my sad station that words are all that I can offer you and I continue to hope they bring some comfort. Keep home in your hearts, thoughts of skies, of pleasant smells and tastes, of warm feelings and kinder faces. You left them as heroes and every day that you resist, you continue to be heroes.

Behind this iron door, across the air and the barriers between us I reach out my hand to you.

I honor you.

I love you.

(ooc: Some things of note -- the Marquis is still an Inmate and has been for a long time. Presently unsorted, his door is unlocked, but much in the way he was when he first came to the real Barge, he can't comprehend that it's unlocked even though people can come and go pretty much freely. I'd like to presume that in times like this, when a Warden isn't assigned to bring him food, he patiently waits for someone he's friendly with to do it. Volunteers welcome.)

Comments

Spam

[impure_tale]

Merci, dumpling.

[Just a little more than a whisper, there.]

You could defy them, you know.

Spam

[with_my_teacup]

[He hates when that tone of distress or doubt creeps in-- even Anya still gets it sometimes. He croons back soothingly, brushing the Marquis' cheek with his lips. My allegiance is to me, not 'them.' I'm myself, unchained.

It doesn't mean changing, graduation. Just making different choices, letting some hangups go. But not right now.

Things are changing now. Someone else is gonna come out on top. I don't know who-- if they'll keep promises the last guy made. Hang on until then. I'll keep you safe.

Spam

[impure_tale]

Making wrong choices. [He watches him evenly.] You're helping them blacken the souls of people who gave their lives nobly. [Though it's all said in a rather flat tone, as though this is a conversation they've probably had many times before.]

Spam

[with_my_teacup]

Nobility is an illusion and philanthropy is real overdone.

Cruelty to the Other is natural. It's pure. I'm more myself than I've ever been. You would feel... so much better. If you would reach out for what you needed. For all you desired.

[The Marquis, it goes unsaid, is not 'the other' in this warden's eyes.]

Spam

[impure_tale]

Cruelty is not nature, Richard Riddick. Unfairness, yes. Pain by necessity, yes. Cruelty comes of pleasure derided in suffering, and I should know. Its name is my name.

Spam

[with_my_teacup]

Reclaim your name. You could be a king.

[He sighs. It is a very old argument. Instead of carrying it on any further, he kisses the Marquis' forehead.]

Eat up. I worry you're not getting enough.

Spam

[impure_tale]

I never lost my name, pet. No need to reclaim it.

[He tucks the strawberry away and then sits down with the bowl. There's not much to his room -- his bed, a desk, a chair, the tattered remains of books that are too damaged for him to completely read.]