Iago

[Iago's very, very calm as he sits at his desk, gently tapping his fingers against the wood. Anyone who knows him, though, might see that it's very, very fake.]

Edward Sexby. [A smirk.] Edward Sexby. It's a bit long to be holding a grudge, isn't it? Do you feel better? Hitting him in the face...I'm sure that was a beautiful feeling. Your hand colliding with his face or...did you use the metal one so you wouldn't dirty yourself with my warden's blood?

[Iago grins a bit wider, leaning forward.] Does it make you feel good, as a warden, to have relieved your violent tendencies? I could always take my revenge on the people...[Snicker] person...you care about. Just like you do.

Or maybe not.

Do I hold grudges like you? Or am I not allowed to be violent because of my status here?

And the rest of you wardens...let's see how long it takes the rest of you to lose your calm. It's a beautiful thing, that loss of control. Apparently this is your new way of solving issues. Even ones over a year old.

[Iago’s drunk. Again. Thanks, Prefect! But this time there is no destruction. No throwing of furniture (yet) and only Iago…sitting behind his desk, his hair tied back. He’s drunkenly wielding a quill like a sword in front of the camera. He’s…eerily calm.]

I have been here for exactly 1 year, 7 months, and 14 days. And in that time, I have accomplished very little. Oh, I have kept a warden, yes. And I have killed a few men. You might say I have even ‘made strides in my rehabilitation.’ [He gives a grand gesture to this, emphasizing his sarcasm, placing the quill aside.]

And yet…here I stand. Or…sit. Tell me, people of the Barge, about graduation. For those inmates who have been here as long or long- [And then a thought strikes him.] That doesn’t leave many, does it? Shego. Hayley. Adam. Sylar. Elle. [Oh wait. He was going somewhere before he got distracted.] As I was saying, tell me why you haven’t graduated.

And why would you ever want to? For those who haven’t had the pleasure of being around so long. This time last year? I was being forced to make apologies. Last year, I helped rule a kingdom. This year? Nothing. A paradise. [He sighs, glaring at his desk. His tone lowers a bit.]

What is the point of it all? Why must we endure this Admiral’s sick and ridiculous fantasies time after time? [He’s working himself up and slams a hand down on his desk.] Do you people enjoy it? You wardens? You damned harpies. Snatching us away from a moment only to drag us down into your filth with you.

You believe you are any better than we are? I have seen your sins, dear Wardens. And I. [He stands up, grabbing a book. The observant will notice that it’s Othello.] HATE. THIS. PLACE. [He loses his temper completely and hurls it across the room. The camera shuts off.]

[A few moments later, he adds in this:] And as for those apologies…Angelica, you can have the one I never gave. Consider this my sincere apology for shooting your husband, even if he wasn’t your husband. [That finished, he turns the camera off again.]

[Inmate Filter]

[Iago’s sitting in his room, playing Rex’s DS at his desk. IT WAS A GIFT, OKAY? He talks in spurts, in between difficult parts of the level.]

Here’s a story, my dear, dear friends. There...once was a boy who went to his teacher...and asked him if it was good to talk. The teacher...replied that frogs and toads will...talk all day but...no one really listens to them. [He sighs here as Mario dies and he’s out of lives.] But he said also that the rooster crows once a day and everyone pays attention.

So why do we continue to pay attention to those who talk and complain all the time? [HYPOCRISY MUCH?! He told his story, so he goes back to his game.] Stop being so boring. And predictable. Take your unnecessary anger out elsewhere.

[Private to Prefect]

Tell me about your world. The one you came from before you were here.

Hello, hello. New arrivals. Let's put in something vague and boring here about how we welcome you to this hellhole. [Snort.]

Don't believe them. You new inmates, I mean. Don't believe the wardens. There is an escape from here. I've escaped from here.

[There's a bit of a pause here as he "pretends" to come to a realization.] And now, I'm the only one left who ever has escaped. [A LAUGH. Because he's hilarious. Clearly.]

Too bad they just come and bring you back, though. That's a touch annoying.

My dear, dear Marquis. Perhaps you would indulge me with some wine tonight?

I've been good, haven't I? No one has died and there was no more damage to my room. I would consider that a success worthy of a small celebration, wouldn't you?

[The people on level 7 might have heard a fit of epic proportions going on most of the evening. Iago has thrown down his bookshelves, tipped over his desk and upended his bed the best he can. But he's deliberately turned on his communicator now and is drunk. Absolutely, completely, almost blind drunk. He's kicked his door in already and it's open, barely hanging on its hinges. He'll think about the consequences later. He's been mostly speaking in Italian but stops to delight the rest of the Barge with some English favorites.]

...a currish fly-bitten malt-worm! Betrayed! Left and betrayed by a...motley-minded barnacle! A half-faced clotpole! This place...so full of liars. Betrayers. TRAITORS!

[Back to Italian. Those "blessed" with the knowledge of it will get a string of curses and death threats. Then...English again as he stands up and hurls the empty wine bottle out of the door, where it shatters against the opposite wall in the corridor.]

This is no place for trust, for graduation. To hell with them. To hell with them both! A PLAGUE! A PLAGUE ON BOTH THEIR HOUSES! [He stumbles a bit and the communicator drops to the floor, facing the ceiling. There's a thump, as Iago has presumably flopped down beside it. He's not moving now...but will respond.]

[OOC: BE WARNED...he'll be abusive. Feel free to spam if relevant.]

Hmm, what an extraordinary port that was. New clothes. A new life. I can find absolutely nothing to complain about. Except one little thing- what is the "stock market?" I have been agonizing over this for days. 

[He pauses to give a bit of a laugh. Today is an exceptionally wonderful day for him. Just...because it can be.]

Also, does anyone play chess? I'll admit that I'm just learning, but it would be nice to have someone to play it with. While I do enjoy a game against myself, I find that I'm...quite predictable. At least to me.

[Private to Prefect]

I'm bored. Do you have any hillbilly left in you?

[The video switches on and is shown from a very low angle, as if he had simply discarded it on the vanity. The bare chested Iago, now called Tezcatlipoca, stands above it, looking in a mirror as he runs his fingers through his hair. His face is painted with a black and yellow stripe, which is shown as he looks down to the communicator.]

What a wonderful vessel. [He runs one hand across his stomach and then leans down, looking into the camera. Into your very soul, barge.] A warrior, and yet a man possessed of much knowledge, it seems. I am curious as to why I have taken such a form. But all will reveal itself in time. [Taking a few steps back, he spreads his arms out and gives a great laugh.]

Come children...find me and I will embrace you. You need not fear, as I am Tezcatlipoca. And I am here to protect you. [No...no he isn't.]

Brother...[Yeah, that means you, Quetzalcoatl.] I do hope to see your face once more.

[This is the god of temptation, discord, magic, war, fate and all other kinds of good things. And he doesn't know why he's here...so he's going to do what he does best! Tempt and spread discord...and bother Quetzalcoatl.]

[Iago's sitting at his desk, lounging back, looking particularly pleased with himself. His hands are out of sight, off to the side, playing with something. It's the watch he once took from Sylar, but he's very careful to keep it off screen.]

I think it was the year before last that we actually had the Games for Christmastime. Or, at least what would approximate to Christmas. I could never really get the times right. [Chuckle. He's hoping there's still some trauma out there to exploit...]

That seems like far more enjoyment than what we have here. These decorations would make any person in Venice cringe in embarrassment. [Guess who has been forced to decorate more than once...] And not a Nativity scene in sight. Shame. I suppose it makes sense if we are being absolutely secular.

How dull.

( Spam for Claire )