MarinaNova Asylum

[ The audio is a little fuzzy, Clay realizes, but that doesn't matter. He's not looking for quality, here, and he's not showing his face. The people who need to hear this message will know who he is soon enough. ]

So, Marina. It's a balmy sort of day. Cool, pleasant, nice. You know, besides being stuck a thousand leagues under the ocean. Makes everything distinctly less pleasant.

[ A long, long pause, before Clay laughs, manic and strung out. ]

What's your stance on revenge, Marina?

[ So being dragged home unconscious apparently doesn't put Clay in a good way with Rebecca. Who knew? What also doesn't put him in a good way with her is when the fact that he'd broken into Reid and Kitty's apartment to threaten and possibly maim/kill Reid comes out into the open. All in all, she's not a happy camper, and Clay can't say he is either, because his head feels like he'd just spent 16 hours in the animus without stop. Scrambled, painful, and about to get a nosebleed. ]

[ So facing Rebecca should absolutely help him with this, right? ]

[ For a moment he considers locking this away from Tyki Mikk, but that would mean acknowledging that he's scared and he can't do that. Instead he makes the transmission open, video and all and aside from being sans tie (which is unusual in itself) he looks fine. A little tired, but when isn't he?

Good thing no one can see his heavily bandaged right hand, right? ]

Hey. Just letting everyone know that Criminology class will be cancelled today, due to time constraints. Hopefully we'll be back up by day 292, but until then anyone who wants to catch up on the previous lectures can contact me or Artemis Crock for a copy of the compendium.

Thank you for your patience. [ A beat of hesitation, and then he adds. ]

Oh, and uhm... anyone who knows how to bake cookies? I'd really appreciate it if you could come down to the home ec room at the education center. I, uhm. I need some help.

[ Clay can do a lot of things himself. He can get his hands on fake glasses, on piercings, on the worst clothing he can't imagine anyone wearing, and he can get his hands on Rebecca's knife set. Logically he knows he should be able to dye his hair himself, It's not that hard. But it's harder when all grasp of the language written on the back fades away. He's left puzzling over it for too long, but every time he returns to it he can't understand it. ]

[ Eventually he has to go to Rebecca. He hasn't been able to make himself visible yet to Reid with his hair in the condition it is in. It's too noticeable, and Clay doesn't want to be noticeable. So he tosses the box on her lap unceremoniously one day and crosses his arms defensively. ]

I need your help.

[ So perhaps Clay had over-reacted when it came to Reid and perhaps threatening to behead him was a poor choice. Clay understands this fully; knows that violence rarely solves every problem had. It's an explicit knowledge, too, of failed dens, of Assassin's and Templars slain, of first loves laying dead in his arms. Violence rarely is the weapon of choice for a Master Assassin. ]

[ But Clay isn't a Master Assassin, is he? In fact, he should be dead. He has nothing to loose here, and everything to gain. ]

[ Following Reid home is as easy as a walk in the park, finding out about the security system in the apartment less so, and finding a decent enough knife to be able to chop through bone proves impossible. He'll have to improvise or bring more than one is what that little road bump comes down to. Good thing Rebecca has a full kitchen of knives, that finding something sharp and dangerous isn't exactly difficult. Hell, if he felt like it he could sharpen up a tree branch and send it through Reid's stomach with little effort on his part. That could be fun just to see the look on Reid's face. ]

[ Hating Reid, planning his death, stalking him, all these things actually keep Clay focused. It's astonishing. He hasn't been focused for years. So for that, if he can manage it, he'll try to minimize the suffering. ]

[ video ]
[Chekov was right — this pearl is cursed. She's tried stomping it with her boot, hitting it with a hammer, throwing it into a fire... Nothing is destroying it. And the pearl still has enough of a hold on her that it doesn't even occur to her to toss it in the water.

But she's not giving up.]

How do I destroy this thing?

[She holds up the necklace with the black pearl in it.]

[Mid-morning]

Anyone walking through the marketplace midmorning might see Mal carrying a box. Or, if not the box, they might see him standing on the box, arms crossed, still, and looking very angry indeed. He refuses to get anymore punishments, but he's not going to be happy about doing what he's doing.

Anyone walking through the marketplace midmorning who happens to have some sense would probably stay away from him. Because poking angry bears never turns out for anyone...

a//voice

[ Clay never thought he'd be making another one of these-- an open post to the prison network. but here he is, doing exactly that. It's curiosity, through and through. If he was smart, he'd lay low. But no one ever said he was smart. ]

So. Animal parts. Fun gimmick, almost enjoyable. [ His voice is manic, holding back something of a frightening laughter. He finds the situation amusing, but not for the right reasons. ] I wonder what everyone has become. I wonder if we'll be able to see a pattern. Rhyme or reason! [ And there's a slip of chuckle. ] There's always a reason, always, always, always.

So, Marina. What have you transformed into?

( b//closed action to REBECCA CRANE )

[ It is a beautiful day, not too hot nor too cold . There is just that one little detail that perhaps gives it a sour note. Some of you have woken up with new and improved bodies all together, others might have the addition of a tail or perhaps paws for hands or feet.

You might be spending the day raiding the dog food aisle, contemplating if it is okay to lick yourself or just simply how in the heck your are suppose to even open a door with paws. Either way this will be a interesting day, ]

(OOC. This is the Mingle for the Animal Trouble Event, have lots of fun and here is the Info for those that need it. Here )

[ It is a sheepish looking Aidan that turns on the video feed this fine day. He diddly-done fucked up and now he has to do something he really enjoys to pay for it. His life is hard. The hardest. ]

Hey, uhm... so a while back I kinda got m'self in trouble, an' th' Wardens want me to throw a party or somethin' for y'all to make up for it. [ Such punishment. Very unfair. ]

I was thinkin' maybe a barbeque or a potluck or somethin' at th' beach? Everyone brings whatever they wanna drink an' maybe something else to eat like salad or if you want vegetarian. I can bring th' meat an' uh... I guess I could make some punch or lemonade or somethin'. [ Hmn. ] We can play games an' roast marshmallows. Stuff like that, nothin' fancy. Just... hang out, I guess.

Sounds good? Kinda thinkin' 'bout 278, so in two days time? Is that enough for everyone to prepare?

[ He didn't plan to return to civilisation quite so soon but not even Sector 6 is capable of hiding him from the pesky Sentinels. After a few rounds of electroshocks by taser, you're willing to do whatever it takes just to stop pissing yourself. So by early morning on Day 276, Spike slunk back into Marina proper, desperate to get this bollocks over and done with before anyone noticed him back.

The first part is easy. Cleaning public bathrooms is gross as hell but manual labor isn't exactly difficult and you'd be surprised how quickly you can get done with the time pressure of ordinary people waking up. Still, the chance of getting caught is a real one. Want the chance of humiliating him properly? Potentially get a mop in your face? Then now would be the time to use the public restrooms.

His next punishment is... surprisingly enough even more painful. Arts and crafts? Fucking really? Still, it gives him the opportunity to hide out in the art center for a while, writing inspirational messages on rocks and by inspirational I of course mean such motivational phrases as "wanker" and "your mum". To be on the safe side, he'll cover them in the herpes of the craft world — glitter — before dumping them around the dome in the provided baskets. Have fun with that one.

And then all remains is volunteer work, which isn't that bad when you got a murderbro that owns a bar. He's bartended before around here and hanging out at the Devil's Compass doing whatever isn't the worst way he could spend an evening. Only problem is the great risk of exposure, but he doubts the goody-two-shoes of prison would stick their nose in here for no good reason... ]


((ooc: Feel free to run into Spike while he's busying himself fulfilling some much belated punishments! Confrontations are a-okay, as long as they don't mess too badly with the ongoing resouling plot! Pearl shenanigans also welcome, if that's of interest! ))

[Morning - Sector 2]

Mal walked Serenity through the streets of sector 2 paying only enough attention to not run into anyone. She wanted to run though, so he couldn’t exactly get lost in his own thoughts. “Shh girl. We’ll be at the beach soon.” And sure enough they were. He gave her a gentle kick and the horse took off like a shot. When they reached the other side, he turned her around for another pass, and then dismounted. She rolled around in the sand as best she could while Mal lay out his coat and flopped down, staring up at the overcast sky. Anyone who dealt with Mal normally would notice that he’s significantly calmer and happier when he’s with his horse.

[Afternoon - Sector 5]

Unfortunately, Mal couldn’t spend all day at the stables. After lunch, he let his feet take him somewhere. Oddly enough, they took him to Sector 5, an area he tended to avoid. He merely shrugged today and made his way into the museum.

[Private voice to Spencer Reid]

Hey, uh - would today be as good a day as any to have you over to talk to Clay?

[Action - Home]

[Rebecca's been both looking forward to this and dreading it. Introducing Clay and Reid in the flesh by inviting the latter of the two over. It's silly because she's handled stress from so many sources in the past without so much as a second thought, but this is really - weighing on her a little. It's such a sweet relief to think there might be a way to help Clay, give him a little stability. Who better to help than Reid, right? Oh God, she just hopes this doesn't go horribly wrong.

She plans to make a nice meal, busying most of her day with that until Reid's due over. Veggie stir fry, some fresh salad and pasta. She'll hold off on setting plates until Reid's actually there so she doesn't spook Clay too early on.]

[ It had been three days since the that fascinating if slightly terrifying day of dreams and it was very interesting how much of it all that he remembered from it.

That was part of the reason that Facilier had stayed at home up until now, trying to figure out what had happened not to mention writing up anything that had felt valuable.
Which leads up to today, all through the day you will be able to find the dark tall man in the library in sector 2, looking up everything he can about dreams.

More specifically Shared Dreams. ]

[ Clay tries to avoid wandering. It's not a natural for him, not anymore. When he was a child he'd do anything to get out of the house and run, but that was a long time ago. It's been beaten out of him, so to speak. The fact he's already been attacked here for doing exactly that doesn't speak to his safety. But there's one thing here he hasn't inspected-- the starscape. Is it the same? He's spent aeons watching the stars, the moon, the sky, locked in the animus, but he hasn't managed it for even a minute here in this prison. ]

[ He has a single sparkler, unlit, and finds himself in a park during dusk, waiting for the sun to finally set. ]

[001. In It Alone]

[You did something They didn't like. Maybe you started putting facts together, figured out there was something fishy going on in the company. Maybe you rallied against some of Abstergo's company policies for the sake of the public. Maybe you worked for them and realized you were being asked to do some things you didn't feel wholly comfortable doing. Or maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something you shouldn't have; a conversation, an argument, a murder. Or maybe they mistook you for someone else.

So they went after you. They're either surrounding you this very minute, in which case you better start running if you notice something is amiss. You'll get a phone call if this is the case, from an anonymous number that is insistent until you pick up. But if you don't manage to answer in time, they will haul you away into their little white van to whisk you off and away.

But she'll help you. Don't worry.]

[002. In It Together]

[They caught you, you're in the van and you're panicking because you don't know who they are or where they want to take you. (Unless you've clued in and realized it's Abstergo, they're not just a public face but something much darker.) And she's there too, sitting in the van with a scowl and her arms bound behind her with zip ties. She's not the guiding voice this time but another captive, but that doesn't mean she's about to sit back and wait for them to make the two of you disappear.

She looks over after the doors close, and the van starts up. Quiet:] How loose are your hands?

[003. Bang Bang]

[You're in the middle of a dark warehouse, the only lights being three hanging bulbs in a row overhead. It's dank and musty and there's nothing but shadows and cold outside the realm of the light on the concrete. There's a figure, dark and without a face, pointing a gun at you. Demanding you put your hands up and say you'll come with Them, and give up the files you're holding. Tell them where the safehouses are.

Whether you're an Assassin or not, they seem to think you know the Brotherhood's secrets. And they're determined to get them out of you one way or another.]

[004. Shaken or Stirred?]

[The room is bustling with fine clothed aristocratic members of society; there is a waltz playing, or maybe just a man playing requests at a grand piano. Crystal chandeliers, bubbly drinks and laughter echo off every wall. Wealth just about drips from the rich tapestries and paintings on the wall and the diamonds around women's necks. Among them all is a man or a woman, your target who you have to tail. Whether you have to kill them or lift something from them, you have to keep them in your sights for the night to go well.

But you're not alone, a woman in a red dress off to the side is working with you. Helping you get in and out, the two of you are well trained in how to handle this. You're not nervous, are you? Don't worry, she's heading over with a glass of champagne in hand.]

[005. Somber]

[Before you stands a thick metal door with only a slit to look in at the room behind it. A number is inscribed in the front along with the Abstergo logo; the company that uses this dark and dingy hallway in one of it's 'research' facilities to house people of interest. Prisoners of worth. Should you look in you'd be surprised to see the room isn't dark at all, light panels line the floors and walls, humming a gentle white light. It is the complete opposite of darkness, an invading light that never fades.

There is a bed. And on the bed is a woman, in a white tanktop and jeans. She's curled up to try and shut away the light, the sound of silence and the utter swallowing panic of loneliness.]

1))
[ The rooftops fly by in a blur of colours, the click of the rooftops underfoot. The robes he wear are bleached white, and the sun is beating down on the red and beige houses around him. There's no reason for him to be running and jumping, there's no guards chasing him, no target in sight. It's pristine, almost, perfect, Firenze in all it's glory. ]

2))
[ There's no alarms blaring, no emergency lights, and it coats the white hall in darkness. There's panicked breathing, the sound of someone's footfalls in the distance, echoing down the corridor. Everything is dark and perfect, but there's an anxiety in the air, like something has been stolen. And very maybe it has. ]

Dream 1 The ship was stopped, his crew was gone, and he was shot. It seemed like a hopeless cause as he stumbled through the ship to fix himself up and get the ship back in running order.

[OOC: Really, if you don’t know the plot and you want to find out more about it, you can read it here I’m happy to play out any bit of it. Perhaps you’re a crew member who refused his orders. Or maybe you’re a marauding pirate who’s here to kill him. You can get to him before he gets shot… I’m game for anything!]

Dream 2 Adolescence. Teen Mal is on a horse, busy rounding up the cattle. He also has chores to do, and schoolwork. Not real schoolwork mind you - the stuff his mom makes him do.

[OOC: Are you a ranch hand? Or a good friend from a neighboring farm? Or just some random stranger stopping by for the night.]

Dream 3 Mal sat up half naked in bed. He thought he heard a knock. He padded, barefoot, over to the ladder and opened the hatch, looking up at the shadowy form. “Inara? That you?” he called out.

[OOC: IF this goes into sexy territory, I prefer fading to black]

[ Option one: Queen Bee. (potentially sexy) ]

[ You find yourself inside a giant beehive, honey dripping thickly from the walls. There’s the occasional bee buzzing around, head like Anubis but they don’t seem to be paying much attention to any intruders. Should you venture further into the hive you’ll eventually enter a pie shop with furniture made up of cheese and rotting fruit. Chuck is waiting behind the counter, clad in a saran wrap dress and not much else. ]


[ Option two: Agatha Christie eat your heart out. ]

[ Someone is dead. Murdered in cold blood or perhaps by way of scratch-and-sniff or deep-fried in their own secret chicken recipe. Maybe you did it. Maybe you saw it happened. Maybe you’re in the morgue already, staring at a dead body with a girl next to you who looks on with expectation. ]

[ Option one: Home Sweet Home ]

[ You find yourself in someone’s back garden, apple trees heavy with fruit and laundry hanging out to dry in the warm summer breeze. There’s an earthy fragrance in the air, of ripe vegetables and pine tree sap, of deep lakes and golden fields ready for harvest. There’s a buzz of insects in the air, the sound of farm machinery droning on in the distance. Maybe the whinny of a horse.

A (potentially) familiar redhead is playing at the edge of the garden, red hair cut in a not too flattering bowl cut, but he’s only eight years old so it’s certainly forgivable. ]

[ Option two: Bar fly (the potentially sexy option aow aow ) ]

[ The bar is packed to the rafters, some faces human but a lot of them very much not. The buzz is loud, the music is loud and through the crowd weaves a potentially familiar face — Aidan is entranced in his work, cleaning glasses off tables and taking turns in the steaming hot dish room. Could use a break tho, if his red cheeks and sweat-damp forehead is any indication. ]

[ Option three: Echoes of War ]

[ There is no shape to the landscape. No landmarks, just a heavy stench of sweat and shit and blood, mingling with chemicals from explosives, the oily smell of a grease fire, of petrol leaking into the ground, of maggots crawling in an open wound. The sky, if it can be called that, is occasionally brought to life by blinding flashes in white and red, followed by a bone-deep rumble as the explosions shakes another little piece out of place.

An empty void of complete bone-chilling terror. You will die here. ]