Journal of the Marquis de Sade

My beloved readers, my Inmate has finally defied the expectations of his peers, of his enemies, and of the standards of literature, and graduated -- no small feat for any person that sets foot on this mysterious ship. As of the fifteenth it was two years that he was in my care. Congratulations are in order, for him especially, and as I offer my own, with deepest pride in the man he has chosen to be.

[Friend Filter - Ask if you don't know if you're on it -- the list of names in the last entry really doesn't count]

I bear no intentions to make this about myself, but I would like to every last one of you if I denied I did not have my personal doubts. It is not that I ever believed he would fail, but because when I accepted this position, it was a challenge to prove that good could come of my philosophies, that my ideas of right and wrong are sound and not simply the machinations of one mad canary who flits in disorientation from cage to cage and stabs its beak at every curious onlooker that passes. I am a grown man, but for much of my life I did not act one. As an Inmate what weighed me was my influence on others, that I refused to own. The actions of others are their responsibility, but there are times when I have deliberately incited, times where my influence swayed innocents onto dangerous roads, and I would not marry myself to those consequences -- all for some higher notion of the freedom of ideas.

I graduated officially over two years ago, but I had not graduated, truly graduated, because I had not yet proven to myself that my influence could create good. I feel that I have accomplished this, at long last, and it is high time I had some reward for that.

[/Friend Filter]

Like my Inmate before me, I shall be departing the Barge -- very briefly. With my hands suddenly free, I feel I deserve a little holiday before another eager soul causes my Warden item to pulse (often at the most inopportune times and in the most interesting of places). I shall be visiting perhaps with Henry and the good doctor, eventually...among other places, but first I made a promise some time ago to pay a visit to the macabre and luxurious Sanitarium Island.

Until then, my dear readers, I must bid you a fond (and ever-so slightly suggestive) adieu.

OOC: The Marquis is going off-barge until either late tomorrow night or the next day. Of course he'll feel he's been gone for much longer, but he's got some exes to playfully harass and MAY decide to go back home and troll a few people.

Pere Noel,

Such a silly compulsion, to write anyone begging for gifts, but by now I understand that it is unavoidable. My third Christmas here. Imagine!

I require little for myself this year, though I would like to request a firearm of more modern make. One with a 'safety' setting.

( His Wish List for Everyone Else - Private )

Owing to the sudden understaffing in the kitchen and Monsieur Sofer's refusal to allow Wardens to help, I'm wondering exactly how many Inmates here do not have some sort of occupation? Don't be shy. I won't bite. But you must be terribly bored, and I for one tire of eating at every meal what I would call a prisoner's ration if I for one hadn't eaten better in prison.

Meat on bread. Or cheese on bread. Honestly.

The wine only barely makes up for it. And this is hardly the fault of those working in the kitchens. If they've limited means to put out anything better then they cannot be blamed.

[Private to Iago]

I'm pleased that you've been taking shifts in the kitchen. I trust that means you're well.

[Private to Henry West]

Sparrow, I realize you're in recovery and taxed, I'm certain, but I've a matter of some urgency I need to discuss with you.

Once again, I convey my thanks to Doctor Jones, who was so kind as to look after my Renate whilst I was feeling under the weather.

In light of the recent health crisis, rehearsals are postponed.

[Private to Henry West]

I trust that if you can be so angry with the kitchen staff, you must be healthy.

[Warden Filter]

When you lose ground with your Inmate -- and nobody lie; I know most of you have had this happen -- how do you usually recover?

Pere Noel,

Compelled to write to you though I very well may be, I realize you are the only source most of us have for these silly traditions of gift exchange -- and while I never professed any love of Christianity, I have never been averse to the familial aspects of the season when it has been my opportunity to enjoy them. For this reason I am resisting this a good deal less than I did last year. I am terrible at choosing gifts, however, so I will do my best.

( If it's behind the cut it's not visible to the public. The rest is, though )

Finally -- for myself. I should like a dog. I know not what specific breed you should bring, but it must be an active sort, but also very loyal, intelligent, and most importantly protective.

I trust you to handle things.

-M. de Sade

(ooc: Simm!Master's gift? A beard trimmer. Haha, Marquis. The breed of dog he'll wind up with: A Groenendael.)

( Private to the Admiral )

[Public]

Iago, if I am to teach you anything it is that so long as you are under my care, violence will not be tolerated. As of now and for the next month, I am assigning you to custodial duty. In particular I'm assigning you to cleaning the Inmate bathrooms. You will do this in the early hours of the morning; plan on being roused at 5 a.m. for the next thirty days, effective tomorrow.

There will also be no visitors to your chambers without prior permission from myself, until further notice.

You are also to write an apology, to be posted publicly, to the woman you attacked and for perpetuating more violence with the Sexbys. This is to be submitted to me for approval prior to posting it for them.

You are still expected at rehearsals, as is everyone else in the troupe.

And to everyone else, I must agree with recent posters and ask what it is the lot of you think would happen if you did what the nice voices told you to do. Most of you have been here long enough to know better.

And honestly, if you really wanted to be bombarded with images of gore and rampant sex, that's what my library is for. Much safer to read than to experience every night.

( Quick Private Note to West )

I need something a little stronger than wine, mon ami.

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)

A very intelligent young man said to me one day that the mark of an amateur is that one has written more than they have read. I'm taking slow steps in my 'recovery', and having a few books to read might be just what I need.

So -- to anyone willing to respond: What are your favorites, why, what are they about, and are they in the library?

[Private to West]

Sparrow, you haven't been making so much noise in the evening anymore. Are you feeling better?

Are you still with us?

(ooc: the Marquis is taking his first steps into claiming he's living it up more than writing and just sitting in his room x.x We're gonna have to bring him out of his shell >.>)

I did not expect gifts. Once I have time to sit down to write a few letters I'll be certain to disburse proper thanks, but truly -- I am moved. Captain Adams, I haven't had this vintage since I was twenty-five! Giselle, dearheart, you know me entirely too well. Monsieur Q -- merci.

I regret that I do not at present have the resources to provide gifts for the lot of you as well.

Thank you for the consideration. Joyeux Noel.