021 .. the real power in this world ain't wardens [video]
[Facilier comes on screen looking slightly amused. In spite of his words, though, there's something unusual about his expression, to those who know him - something a little less smug, but not the rage that usually replaces the smugness, either. It's almost genuinely thoughtful.
He's also wearing this, without a hint of self-consciousness.]I was ( Read more... )
He's also wearing this, without a hint of self-consciousness.]I was ( Read more... )
That wig wears you well.
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Heh, well thank you. No reason I can't look snazzy while makin' a point.
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They're all the rage on 21st-century Earth.
So, whose fault do you think it is? Or do I have to answer first?
[And he so agrees about the looking snazzy. Snazz is very important.]
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Oh, I thought I made it pretty clear with the wardrobe. But if you've got other ideas...
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It's the only idea worth having, but I'm surprised to hear sense on this ship. Sense and dress sense. I like it.
I'm the Master, but you can call me Saxon. Or Harry. Your choice. Are we on a first-name basis?
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Dr. Facilier, at your service. My first name don't get out much, Harry, hope you won't take it personal.
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Is it just me, or is it Barge taboo? Almost superstitious. Blame the wardens, but only acknowledge the Admiral. I'm surprised no one makes the sign of the cross when they say his name.
How long have you been here, Facilier?
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And you've got it right. He's the great unknown, never mind that we don't know if it's a he or even a human. But they all seem real afraid about finding out.
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I don't think he exists. Or if he does, he'll be a construct. Voice announcements, objects materialized in on command, a few maintenance protocols. Just enough substance to give the wardens a bare feeling of authority and to keep us all guessing.
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Hm. It's possible. You got some kind of mock-up, though, it means someone made it.
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Deconstruct the mock-up, trace it to its source, see if this ship is signaling, and we find our higher power.
The wardens are a distraction for us, we're a distraction for them. We invoke the name of the Admiral, get back to the sacred business of prison politics, and the right questions slip from our minds.
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And that there ain't something with teeth on the other end. I've got this thing with self-preservation, if they turn the death back on...
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Try registering a formal complaint. I got four.
It will have teeth. Whatever created this Barge has power.
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I'll have to get someone with more muscle out in front of me, then. 'Cause it's power enough to move the gods around like they're pieces in checkers.
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