rickitikitarr | 1. video

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[Ricki Tarr, latest inmate arrival, is still getting his feet under him. He's been on board for a little while now, but let's face it, he's a field agent from the 1970s, getting used to graphical user interfaces of his messenger has put up a bit of a roadblock in terms of his making contact.

By the time he's confident enough with the flimsy, cheeping little device to make a video post, his stomach is growling, so the very first message is a simple video shot.

It's poorly framed, he has no real idea of how to centre himself in the lens, and the light in his room is dark and low and terrible for any sort of filming. But from the dark, what's visible of his half-in-the-frame expression is still and steady;]

The first living creature to orbit the earth was a little Russian mongrel named Laika. She was a pretty thing, with a clever cast to her eyes and pricked up, pointed ears. On the fourtieth anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution they flung the little thing into the sky.

In fact, the Russians had been launching dogs into suborbital flights for a few years before, but none attained the notoriety or captured the imaginations of the world like little Laika. I was rather young when she was sent to space, but recall thinking the entire proceedings terribly inhumane.

The Soviets say that she was euthanized before her oxygen ran out. The British and Americans question whether that is true. The Russians question whether that questioning is deliberately spread propaganda meant to make them seem monstrous. In the time since, I think both sides have lost track of the original truth of the matter. But the question of her ultimate cause of death aside, I wondered whether she might be hungry, thirsty or afraid, uncomprehending of how it was possible to see stars all around her... I actually can't recall reading whether Sputnik 2 was like this ship, with windows or not. Laika may not have seen stars spinning in the sky, but I'm sure the sounds and sudden lack of gravity must have been rather frightening for such a little dog.

[His voice is low and steady, the pictures his paints are matter-of-fact and vivid. He accent is an odd, old one, London tempered by a childhood racing through Penang streets and other colonial holds. He takes his time with the story before concluding;]

Which is all to say, given the apparent flexibility of space and time on this vessel, if we see her while we're out here, I must simply insist that we make a stop.

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Happens.

[Is his sanguine, good-natured verdict. She's not going to find judgement from him, not on something like that.]

So what's it like here in comparison?

[She snorts.]

This place, compared to federal prison? It's fucking great, is what it is. Now, I was in minimum, but it still don't compare to the Barge. Here all the wardens are nice to you, the food's good, you get a nice room if you ask for one... there's a bar, and a pool, and a place you can change to make look like whatever you want it to.

Edited 2015-03-08 19:05 (UTC)

[Ricki is honest to god so confused about this place. It has the most fucked up priorities of anywhere he's ever been, and he's been some weird, weird places.]

A place you can change to... you're pulling my leg.

Don't believe me? Ask a warden to let you in the Enclosure. Mine made it look like the woods.

Really? That's incredible.

[This whole place is. Originally he'd considered the possibility that someone was doing this to him. He's been at Sarrat and seen Russian men 'released' to their own hospitals, their own commanders, spoken to with convincing brusque care and debriefed by their own. However, the scale of this doesn't make sense. Ricki isn't important enough to construct this level of a set for- and anyways, the Russians aren't this god damn imaginative, in his professional opinion.]

How do I go about finding the mess?

Just ask someone in the hallway. It's on level one.

One is up, eight is down, right?

If I climb, I should find it?

Yup. Open doors, you'll find it eventually. Or ask, like I said. Only don't ask someone who looks like an inmate because inmates are fuckers.

...aren't you and I both-?

There are some good inmates. Don't know about you yet.

But overall I like the wardens a lot better.

Well, I suppose that does make sense, if they're handpicked to be nurturing and... guide-y, if you will.

[Can't really fault her for that one.]

A couple of them really aren't. Like Chris-- he acts like an inmate, but he ain't a dick to me.

[Someday, she'll come to the realization that the reason Chris isn't a dick to her but some of the other inmates are is that she isn't a dick to Chris, but is to those other inmates. But that day is not today.]

Chris. One of the good ones.

[Mentally tagging.]

Who else should I watch out for?

Mmmm... Facilier's a dick. Touko's a dick, but I think she's gone now. Dean and Mickey are dicks, but not in the worst ways, usually. There's a few others, including one that said she might come after me, but I don't know their names.

So spa philosophy aside, it is still a prison.

[Something about that is faintly comforting, somehow, and that sort of worries him.]

Yeah, it is. The wardens are really in charge, and they got a lock-up and everything, down below.

Well then, thank you for your help. I've known many prisoners in my time who wouldn't have been half the gem about it you were.

Yeah, well-- you ain't a pain in my ass.

[And he's lucky her caught her while she was in a good post-port mood.]

It feels nice, being nice to people. I do it a lot.

[No she doesn't, but she's at least getting better at doing it more often.]

That's not a bad philosophy. I might have to give it a try.

[And he isn't even mocking her. He is aware that it would be easy to; she seems so credulous, so straightforward, and Ricki is mean on a sort of bone-deep reflexive level when he lets himself be, fucks with people compulsively, but right now he is very tired and very disoriented and just... likes her for trying. He flicks her a quick salute.]

My last, most important question... can we get our hands on cigarettes, here?

Yup. Gotta ask wardens for 'em, I think, but I've split a few with people.

-- Still wanna know how to get to the cafeteria? 'Cause I could show you; I'm going there.

[He'd complimented her, which endeared him to her immediately.]

You're a life saver. Why don't I start climbing, I know how to do that, and you can find me at a junction that's close to you?

[Since he's down in the depths of the place.]

Fine.

[And out she'll head, mentally patting herself on the back over how nice and helpful she is. The Barge is great! She's great! She's turned over a new leaf! It may very well not last, but for now, getting through the last port the way she did has done wonders for her.

She'll meet him eventually on the stairs-- and recognizing him from the video, she'll just start talking, not bothering to reintroduce herself.]

Another thing you gotta do is make sure people know you're not a weakling. You don't got to go around threatening everyone-- trust me, that ain't the best way here at all. But just because lots of people are all peaceful and hippy-dippy don't mean everyone is, and we got a lot of inmates with chips on their shoulders.

[He nods, seriously, because he's sure that's good advice.]

I don't intend to let myself be walked all over.

[But he does grab the door for her, because that doesn't mean he can't be polite, thank you very much.]

Me neither.

[And up the stairs they go!]

Ain't far now. We're almost there.

How's the food?

[On the one hand, prison. On the other, space-ship-health-spa. He wouldn't really be surprised either way.]

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