Forgive my recent silence, my fellow denizens. Somehow, in spite of everything, I have been somewhat "under the weather." It's taking quite the toll on my Renate, honestly, for I haven't really the energy to run with her at present. I'm feeling much better now, however. It seems, furthermore, that my relative absence has meant I have not provided sufficient occupation for all of my charges.

To my Inmate, you and I must talk and soon. Do not keep me waiting.

To the Inmate called Sylar -- I have this to say to you, without pretense or exaggeration: If I see or hear that you have been associating with mine again, there is not a single Warden on this ship, past or present, that will be fast enough to prevent my retort. Whatever advantage you hope to gain in soliciting him will not be worth the pain I bring upon you. Am I making myself perfectly clear?

Admiral, please empty Room 8 on Level 7 and lock it until further notice.

Apparently, there is an impostor rooming there, and I cannot allow my Inmate's personal space and belongings to be violated by a stranger of similar name.

(ooc: The Marquis found out about Iago lying to someone and claiming there was some OTHER evil Iago that killed JD. And yeah, he's not having that shit. He is locking him out of his room, and will also be chasing him away from work and from sitting down to meals. "You're not Iago, so that is not your food :|" basically.)

(ooc: He has no idea bad stuff will start happening today >.>)

It's a wonder some of you even made it through auditions. I could get a better performance out of Captain Adams' monkey than a few of you. I would hope that when the lot of you get to the point where you have actually memorized your lines that you speak them from memory better than you read them aloud. As a group you do not sound the least bit cohesive, so it's back to basics.

Cast and Crew should begin sitting with one another in the dining hall, as a step toward bonding. Even amateurs see better performances in themselves once they have a feel for the roles of their castmates.

[Private to Daisy Adair]

Mademoiselle, even if you had not told me I would still have the distinct impression that you've experience on the stage, and would like your cooperation in organizing some exercises for some of the less seasoned members of the cast.

Thank you for the use of your room during the flood, Henry, and I apologize for leaving it so late. It is yours again, however.

Doctor Jackson, and to all others that have contributed, thank you for the reading recommendations.

And now that all those pithy formalities have been taken care of, I wish to put the question to anyone who wants to give it some serious thought beyond "The Admiral enjoys making us suffer" because this can already be assumed:

What purpose does having our personalities forcibly changed serve?

And is this not the intention from the start? Why does the Admiral not simply make us the way he thinks we should be, if the whole point of this experience is to change us?

(ooc: once the flood wore off, the Marquis came back to himself and promptly realized he was sleeping in a bed that smelled like West. It got him a bit agitated. So there's now some long, flowery, pissed off letter written on West's bedsheets -- likely to be posted later -- the details of it, at least)

Well... that was positively vile, wasn't it? Even before things started changing. Is that what centuries of repression and religious self-righteousness gets the human race? Bland, bleak, overbound, so devoid of any negative influence that we've all but lost any semblance of flavor?

I'll stick to the Barge any day.

Better still, I'd sooner choose my cell at the Asylum.