4th Case: [INJECTION PLOT]- ANONYMOUS TEXT//UNHACKABLE
Certain events have opened my eyes to a certain reality pertaining to the workings of this ship: it really is of incredible convenience that the network allows for the broadcast of thoughts and opinions so freely. Unfiltered facts, every passing thought, every inane musing that wafts through an individual's mind.
In the wake of certain events, the thought first came as a slow, nearly silent whisper. Why do we allow for such tedium to grip hold of ourselves, and why does one feel the need to have it be acknowledged, as if passing moments of idiocy gave one meaning? Is it not genius, is it not brilliance that deserves recognition?
There is far too much stagnation that is allowed to linger, far too much of it that continues to burrow into the mind and devour it. It is a pestilence. It is a bane.
It is a stimulant.
It is motivation.
But I'm being far too verbose, am I not?
Allow me to get to the point.
This 'Guide', which we have so lovingly christened. I do believe that it can properly be utilized as a Panopticon. Every mundane detail. Every passing thought. Every transaction made on it, every search for answers. It is a highly personal extension. It is information. Data.
And as long as I have information, it is motivation for action.
After all, I cannot work without data.
I am now at my own service, it seems.
((OOC: I APOLOGIZE FOR THE TL;DR. In short, Holmes has been curiously missing after the injection thread (that I've yet to finish but I couldn't resist), and is now lurking around and being generally Moriarty-ish. Which means that he's not the somewhat childish, stubborn consulting detective that he usually is-- he's a cold, almost self-destructive, cold-blooded potential criminal. Everything is purposely vague, because he doesn't want to give himself away too much, but it should be GLARINGLY obvious to some people. TAKE IT AS A CHALLENGE?
ETA: the original injection thread is here!))
In the wake of certain events, the thought first came as a slow, nearly silent whisper. Why do we allow for such tedium to grip hold of ourselves, and why does one feel the need to have it be acknowledged, as if passing moments of idiocy gave one meaning? Is it not genius, is it not brilliance that deserves recognition?
There is far too much stagnation that is allowed to linger, far too much of it that continues to burrow into the mind and devour it. It is a pestilence. It is a bane.
It is a stimulant.
It is motivation.
But I'm being far too verbose, am I not?
Allow me to get to the point.
This 'Guide', which we have so lovingly christened. I do believe that it can properly be utilized as a Panopticon. Every mundane detail. Every passing thought. Every transaction made on it, every search for answers. It is a highly personal extension. It is information. Data.
And as long as I have information, it is motivation for action.
After all, I cannot work without data.
I am now at my own service, it seems.
((OOC: I APOLOGIZE FOR THE TL;DR. In short, Holmes has been curiously missing after the injection thread (that I've yet to finish but I couldn't resist), and is now lurking around and being generally Moriarty-ish. Which means that he's not the somewhat childish, stubborn consulting detective that he usually is-- he's a cold, almost self-destructive, cold-blooded potential criminal. Everything is purposely vague, because he doesn't want to give himself away too much, but it should be GLARINGLY obvious to some people. TAKE IT AS A CHALLENGE?
ETA: the original injection thread is here!))