inhumandog | Entries tagged with brooding

AS OF MONDAY MORNING, THIS POST IS DELETED. THE COMMENTS STILL APPEAR, BUT THERE IS NOTHING BUT SILENCE HERE.

( Cut for the curious... )

[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 doesn't seem well.There are dark circles under his eyes, since he hasn't slept since the night before the flood started. Paranoia isn't a good look for him. Especially this sort of paranoia, which is the same kind he was inflicting on Othello for so long. The paranoia that he's being betrayed behind the scenes. It's been getting worse since the start of the flood. Things aren't so funny anymore.]

It's a cycle. All of this. A cycle.

A wheel. [He gives a manic little chuckle.] What, then, do we believe ourselves capable of? What, then, do we believe we can achieve with so little work? To escape this cycle of betrayal? [He says that word with more than a hint of bitterness.]

I should have known. It always comes to this.

Why are you here, inmates? Why do you play by their rules? You know that you cannot trust anyone.

[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.

[GUESS WHO LOVES THE CAMERA. Well, Iago's returned. He didn't even know that he was gone until he started reading back...and started putting times together. He's...furious at the Admiral but he knows he's had one too many emotional temper tantrums lately. So he's sitting...quietly fuming at his desk.]

A week. Over a week of my absence? [He almost lets the anger slip there, just for a moment.] One would think you might have killed each other by now. Tsk tsk. Must strive to do better next time.

I see it hasn't all been sunny on the barge. What a surprise. But then again...what good is the barge without a little entertainment?

[This last bit is muttered away from the communicator, but can still be heard.] How does one disappear for a week?

Welcome one and all to your own personal hell! Yes, this is to wardens and inmates alike. No one is immune to the horrors that will await you here! [He's trying not to laugh. Honest.]

I always enjoy when new people arrive. They always break the cycle. [He turns a bit more serious now, but he's keeping his tone light, for the sake of everyone else.]

To those who do not know, my name is Iago. Yes, most likely the one you are imagining now. And should you need anything at all, I can always lend a hand. And, on that note, if anyone is willing to help me lift something, I would greatly appreciate it. [Yeah, he's talking about his bookshelf that he torn down in his fit of drunken rage. He's about ready to start putting things back together...a week later.]

[Private to Prefect]

I think this is where I should apologize. If I do, will you accept it?

Why...why would you wander about in those hideous clothes? [He pauses for a moment, his breathing a bit heavy as he really doesn't like this type of cold.]

This is utterly ridiculous. What's the point of wandering around a marketplace? [No, Iago doesn't get that it's pretty. There's a sigh of annoyance and he cuts the transmission off, certain that everyone knows of his disapproval.]

( Spam for Judas )

((ooc: I'm just assuming that Iago at least got off the ship with the Marquis. Everything else is going to be left somewhat vague.))

[Filtered to Inmates, but away from Judas]

I need a drink ~~or four~~ and I'd prefer not to grovel for it.

[Private to the Marquis]

Tomorrow, might I take Renate for the day?

Put me in zero now or I will kill Judas. If you want to talk, we can talk there. I'm very well aware of what he proposed to both you and Adam.

[[ooc: Sorry for so much Iago. But he wouldn't let Judas' post slide like that.]]

Is there not a limit on how many souls this Barge can hold? I have seen so many people enter, but not many are leaving...graduation or otherwise. I do not suppose that bodes well for the others aboard.

I suppose welcome should be in order to those new to this place. You will be here for a long time...apparently.

( Private to West, the Master and the Marquis )

Who honestly believes this is a lull? There is always death, destruction and deceit aboard this Barge. There is never calm, if you sit still enough to see it. Ripples in a calm pond can mean mayhem under the surface.

I need something new to read. I have gone through Whitman, Frost and Keats. I need something...new to calm the spirit.

[Private to Judas]

We need to speak. Come to my room when you find the time, please.

[Private to the Marquis]

My life...a spider's web of lies and deceit. I was the spider, spinning the web to keep myself from falling too far in. I caught so many other lives in that net, twisting them about as if they were only puppets. Which they were, of course. I cared not for their lives because they cared not for mine. They cared not to see, they cared not to look.

And now, in my death, there are webs all around me. They catch and twist, made up of words that they cannot justify.

My web almost broke.

If it had- where would I be?

Is nothing real?

[Private to Sexby]

What did it feel like?

[Private to Judas]

I will need to be alone for a few days, my friend.

[Lots of inkblots here- half formed words that he just smeared ink over, rather than trying to scratch them out.]

Never again. Never. Again.

I do hope he enjoyed his stay. But he is dead. Truly dead. And he will always be dead because he did it to himself.

( Private to the Marquis )

A port?

Of course. That is how this all works, yes? Punishment and all that. Of course. Marquis, would you at least give me some kind of long, dreamless sleep before you go frolicking off into the sunshine?