Seamus Zelazny Harper

I was raised on the nastiest backwater refugee camp Earth has to offer, my parents were both killed by Nietzchiean slavers when I was a kid, and I only made it offworld alive but for the grace of the gorgeous Beka Valentine's boyfriend being a deadbeat jerk.

I like engines better than I like people, I'm doing this whole 'save the universe' bit with Captain Fantastic back in the real world, but much as I like it I sure as hell don't buy into it, and I'll be the first to admit I've probably done worse crap than some of the inmates here.

I don't know why this place brought me back with no memories, I don't know what happened to me before I came here last time, and I'll be perfectly honest, some of the stuff I said in my old entries? Some of the stuff I said to Tyr? Makes me not want to remember. Some of the stuff that I said to the rest of you makes me wish that I did.

So here's the mantra for those of us struck by the urge to get all desperate confessional, repeat after me:

"The universe hates me, and I don't get a say in what it hits me with."

No kidding, you can't fight that, all you get to decide is how you run your damage control programs, and for all the stupid crap I've done wrong in my life, guess what? This place couldn't dredge a single thing out of me that I'm ashamed of.

[When the camera clicks on, Harper is standing in front of the camera with no shirt on. He leans forward, apparently just sorta using it as a mirror, for the time being.

He hooks both thumbs under his jaw line, and pulls the skin there way back, trying to obliterate a non-existent double chin. Then he frowns, and releases. Next he sucks in his cheeks, JUST A LITTLE, like he's trying to accentuate his cheekbones. It just looks dumb though, so he quickly stops, letting out a mournful sigh as he does so.

He takes a couple of steps back, and puts his hands on his hips, pushing in perhaps a little harder than he needs too, trying to get his waist to look like it's a slightly more reasonable size. Then he turns side on, and sucks his stomach right in until his chest is pushed right out, and his actual stomach is kind of worryingly thin, but now his attention has strayed to his upper arms. His grossly obese upper arms, and since there's nothing you can do about your upper arms, Harper quickly snatches up a t-shirt and pulls it on. Then he looks back to the camera, and lets out a sound of utter frustration, before quickly pulling it off and looking for an alternative.

Eventually, he finds a black, long sleeved t-shirt which he pulls on and doesn't immediately reject. Turning to the side, he looks back to the camera, clearly trying to make a decision on it.]

[ooc: For the record, Harper's in pretty good shape, actually, possibly even slightly underweight. He looks the same as he does every day.]

Right, so, this is the Kumbaya flood, right? In which all the bloodthirsty maniacs of the world lay down their arms, and bury their hatchets, and cuddle up under the stars with a picnic and a bottle of champagne in the hopes of playing a midnight game of "pin the tail on the sentiments you're going to regret so freakin' much later".

[Slow clap]

Man, hands up who else is looking forward to the fall out for this one?

Uh, Rex? Hey, I just wanted to let you know, I might not be totally around for a little while. I mean, nothing's wrong, I just...

...

Spencer Reid's trying to kill me.

I don't know why, he's crazy, but until this stupid flood blows over I'm going to have to lay low for a little while, so you're going to have to take care of yourself, okay champ?

You'll do real good, just remember, if anyone gives you any flack, don the hood and let Doctor Hawk drive for a while. They'll back off. Probably.



[Private to the Admiral]

Please give my inmate a hawk? An obedient one, that won't freak him out too much, okay?

Thank you.

And also, please quit it with this stupid freaakin' flood already.