Arthur

[Arthur's sitting on his couch, cross-legged, in a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. His hair's actually... floppy... for once, which probably makes him look younger than he actually is. He's had a few glasses of wine, which is probably not a good idea, what with the lingering Death Toll effects. His voice isn't slurring, not yet, but it's definitely relaxed. This message is clearly intended for one particular person, but Arthur accidentally botched the filter thanks to the alcohol. This is why you don't drink and blog.]

I know I promised you a bottle of wine. So, you should hurry over before I finish this. [He holds up the bottle.] Particular bottle of wine without you.

[Arthur pours another glass.]

It's not that I'm lonely; I'm bored. I think I've been through every book I own at least twice. I even memorized a poem while I was stuck in bed. [He glances at the camera with a playful look.] It made me think of you. How's your French? [He offers the camera a little smirk, then begins to recite some ~French poetry~, his voice somewhat lyrical from the alcohol.]

De ce terrible paysage,
Tel que jamais mortel n'en vit,
Ce matin encore l'image,
Vague et lointaine, me ravit.

Le sommeil est plein de miracles!
Par un caprice singulier
J'avais banni de ces spectacles
Le végétal irrégulier,

Et, peintre fier de mon génie,
Je savourais dans mon tableau
L'enivrante monotonie
Du métal, du marbre et de l'eau...

[Arthur's going to keep going, tipsily reciting this poem because, IDK, it's about dream architecture kind of I'm terrible with poetry, so I could be totes wrong. It's a somewhat long poem, so ENJOY THAT, BARGE.]

[OOC: SO OBVIOUSLY THIS POST IS FOR ARIADNE. But I didn't want to do a private post, so feel free to troll Arthur or assume he's like, hitting on you or whateverrr.]

[Arthur's taking this pretty well. He's just leaning back in a chair and smoking a cigar. BECAUSE HE'S OLD AND HE CAN.]

I think I would have liked to have experienced a few of the decades that led up to this. It'd make the "golden years" feel earned.

[He smirks.]

But it's good to know I'm going to age well.

Thanks for that, Admiral, but I didn't need a flood to tell me that cats are assholes.

I think I'll skip the personalized apologies this time. To anyone I pushed, slapped, kicked or sat on during the flood: it wasn't personal.

[OOC: WHOOPS, I posted this prematurely, because Korean keyboards are weird.

...

AND NOW I'M TOO LAZY TO ADD ANYTHING ELSE TO IT, SO ENJOY A VERY BRIEF POST. I'm gonna try to finish up catlog tags uh. Tonight or tomorrow, idfk.]

[What is Arthur doing-- oh god, he looks TOTALLY RELAXED AND CHILL.  He's actually grinning.  Granted, he's not a linefacing robot even without Adam's influence, but let's face it: regular Arthur rarely, if ever, posts to the network for open social calls.  The network is for business-- or, at least, it was.  As far as anyone knows, however, Arthur's always been like this.  He let loose pretty much immediately after coming to the Barge, much like a kid hitting college for the first time.]
 
I've got a proposal.  Something that doesn't have to do with the flood. [He holds up his hands, as though he's placating an invisible audience.] Yeah, I know the other wardens are too busy making reports about this, that and the other [Smirk, airquotes, HE'S TURNING INTO EDDIE BROCK, SOB.] "crisis" that came up over the last few days, but I don't see the big deal.  Only one person died, which I think is something of a Barge record.  We should be celebrating, not adding more reports to the pile.  It's not like anyone was responsible for what happened during the flood, so what's the point of tracking it?
 
It's like everyone wants to keep morale down.  Look, trust me when I say: you dwell too much on the bad, bury your head in work? You're never gonna get anywhere.  You'll just be miserable, which doesn't do your inmate any good, and it doesn't do you any good.
 
So, allow me to take some proactive measures for the good of the Barge.  Pool party, tonight.  After dinner.  I'll supply the alcohol [Cough.] with 'donations' from the bar...   And you just bring yourselves.  And music.  Unless you enjoy listening to French pop.  [Laughing.]  Not a word, Mal; I know you do.
 
And hey, inmates. [He grins and holds up his warden item-- it's a smartphone.  REAL ARTHUR WILL BE SO PISSED THAT HE OUTED HIS ITEM.] Consider this your free pass into the party.  So, come on, forget about the day-to-day "Barge trauma" and stop by the pool tonight.
 
Especially you, Perry.  [Loftily, complete with an imperious wave of his hand:] As your warden, I command it.
 
[OOC: THIS ARTHUR DOESN'T PAY ATTENTION TO THINGS LOL, so he only knows about Cissie's death, not Loki's or anybody else.  Others are free to look down on him as a lazy warden, since he likely doesn't participate in anything wardenly, fails to keep a lot of warden stuff behind filters, and just focuses on being pals with his inmates.
 
And er, IDK if people really want a ~pool party log~ but if they do, I'll start one after work.  IF NOT, I'll put up an OOC post to work out deets.]

[Filtered from Mal. SO HARD.]
Do you ever wonder if ports are just another extension of the Barge? Like the CES, only on a larger scale. If it can simulate animal life, why not human?

[Private to Dionysus]
Let's talk.

( CHRISTMAS LIST: Mal (sort of Angelica), Capa, K, Steph, Eames, Dionysus AND A BITCHY REDACTED GIFT FOR BLONSKY )

[Say hello to... Arthur, only he's going by the name of Dick Johnson. It's his PROFESSIONAL ALIAS. Anyway, he's wearing a tacky-but-trying-to-be-sexy polyester suit and satin shirt combo. With the top three buttons glamorously unbuttoned. He's leaning against the bar, smirking at the camera, holding a girly-looking fruity drink in one hand. Somehow, he tries to make his sips of it look manly.]

I see there's no shortage of... beautiful ladies on this boat. I'd hate to think of any of you spending your nights here... alone. A place like this... [SULTRY LOOK and he arches an eyebrow. Knowingly.] It's not safe. So, ladies, should you find yourselves in need of an escort [Said VERY meaningfully. YOU KNOW WHAT HE'S TALKING ABOUT.] Don't hesitate to call. I'm very flexible and the only payment I need... is to put a smile on your face [COUGH COUGH MUTTER, he covers his mouth with his hand and turns away slightly, so that there's no video evidence of him saying this... well, you know, aside from the audio track.] For $75 an hour. [Arthur's a cheap hussy. He straightens up, resuming his sultry, flirty look, and leans closer to the camera.]

Remember, all you fine, sexy ladies out there, we're on... [He looks around, as though double checking, and then gives a terribly sleazy look to the camera that he thinks is way sexy.] International waters. Anything goes.

[He tries to end this with a cool, casual sip of his drink, but unfortunately his elbow knocks the communicator from whatever he precariously balanced it on, and it topples over, giving you an awesome, canted view of HIS SHOES.] Oh shit--!

[And there's some rustling, some movement, as Arthur scrambles to pick up the communicator. His drink spills a little, on his pants and on the communicator, and he lifts the device up so that you're looking at his face again. Attempting to regain his cool, he grins, but it's a bit forced, and shuts the camera off.]

[OOC: AND IF ANYBODY WANTS TO ENCOUNTER GIGOLO ARTHUR, just spam in here. Multiple threads, WHATEV.]

I knew floods typically trended towards the ridiculous, but an outbreak of musical numbers? 'Unexpected' is putting it lightly.

[He pauses, as though waiting to see if he's about to break into song just by mentioning it. Nope, still unaffected. This is either really good, or it's going to hit him when he least expects it.]

I hope it won't prevent anybody from telling me: who runs the library? Looking back through the archives, I've seen mention of a "Doctor," but as I understand it, there are several. Is the Doctor who supervises the library still on board, or can I assume the position is open? I'd like to lend a hand-- at least, until I'm assigned an inmate of my own.

You should probably answer in text, if you're affected. Then you can at least keep your poker face on.

[Oh no, why did you say that, Arthur? TECHNO POP BEATS FLARE UP, and he has no idea where they came from. And the communicator maaagically switches to video. Arthur's arching his eyebrow, looking around terribly confused.]

( ARTHUR SINGS. )

[OOC: GRANT IS FINISHED. So I'm just... massively fucking braindead right now. Spent the better part of... every day this week in the office. Want to sleep forever. BUT I HAD TO GET THIS POST OUT FIRST, SORRY IF IT'S SHIT, I BLAME SLEEP DEPRIVATION AND TOO MUCH WORK-WRITING.

Also, yeah, Arthur's posing as a mild mannered librarian, because he doesn't want to be TOO suspiciously evasive when asked about his personal life... and he doesn't want to be honest and say "I BREAK INTO PEOPLE'S MINDS C:"

ALSO ALSO, for a reminder, this is totally what he sounds like singing.]