MarinaNova Asylum

[ Replies will come from bodyswapping ]


[ He'd realized there was something wrong quickly enough when he'd woken up beside his wife that morning, but stepping into the bathroom and finding his mother-in-law looking back at him was another matter entirely. He rarely freaked out, these kinds of crazy things happened much too often to freak out, but...

But he couldn't frighten Deanna like this either. He needed a buffer, some space, a half hour to get his bearings and try and work out what to do about it all. Minute by minute the confusion and uncertainty had become worse. There was anger too, unfamiliar rage and shock and fear. Curiosity that wasn't his own. Then after that, stray thoughts. He tried to recoil from them, but there was nowhere to go, it reached him despite his best efforts. Half an hour turned into an hour. He tried to find a dark place, a corner he could retreat into, a safe place from the crush of unfamiliar empathy and foreign thoughts. He feared what Deanna's reaction would be, but common sense won out in the end. She was the only one who could ground him, help him, and he couldn't hide from her forever.

Reluctantly, he turned on his headset, and looked out from behind Lwaxana Troi's concerned black eyes. He'd wrapped a mauve coverlet around his shoulders as he left, and wore it still, pulled tight across his...her chest. He hadn't even found a shirt, so horrified had he been by the transformation; he regretted that now. ]

Deanna, are you there?

[ Lal's never seen an actual ocean before. Or a blue sky, an underwater dome... Almost everything in MarinaNova is totally new to her. That is why her first transmission comes some time after she's arrived. As urgent as it is that she is returned to The Enterprise, there wasn't exactly anyone around curb her curiosity, or answer the multitude of questions she's storing up for later.

But now, she finally starts her video from the shoreline of sector one. For all intents and purposes, she seems to be an ordinary young woman. Except for the odd and slightly mechanical movements of her head. ]

Father.

[ She doubts he's actually here in the asylum with her, but she has to make sure. She pauses, cocking her head to one side just a bit. Being used to the starship's communication methods, she expects an immediate answer. When none comes, she continues on. ]

Asylum. Protection from danger. A facility where care is given to the sick or insane.

I am not sick. This is not The Enterprise. This is not Galor IV. I do not know of a planet with an ocean named "Saylar". Why... was I taken from The Enterprise? Why was I charged with crimes? Captain Picard stated that I had not done anything wrong. So why am I here?

It is a mistake. Since it is a mistake, I've concluded that the logical action would be to return to the surface of this planet. I will do that now.

[ Obviously, the best way to do that would be through the ocean. She hasn't yet realized that the water before her is independent of the dark sea outside the dome, so she's going to start marching forward purposefully. She'll keep going, eventually sinking below the surface unless she's stopped. ]

[They're soft. They're pleasant. They're...abundant.

As the day goes on the tribbles get more and more plentiful until they are softly, pleasantly everywhere and eating all the food. Feel free to mosey about and interact with them and each other. Maybe you even visit the pet cafe today.]

(OOC: Tribble Info)

[ The video feed comes on early, just after the morning greeting. Aidan is definitely looking worse for wear, perpetually stifling a yawn and doing what he can to drown himself in the first pot of coffee of the day. It's been a few rough nights since Euphie moved in and not for the reasons one may suspect. Or maybe exactly for the reasons one may suspect. ]

So, uhm... [ Clearing his throat. ] Anyone got any advice for stayin' awake when coffee don't cut it no more? I've tried cold showers, but uhm... I got a feelin' I'll give m'self a cold if I keep that up.

Anythin' would be helpful. Please.

[ It is a gorgeous day down here at the bottom of the sea and what better day to have an Olympics! The obstacle course is set up, the towels are fluffed, the medals have been polished to a high sheen and every orange within sight has been sliced.

Okay. Maybe not every orange. A lot of them. Enough to fuel a whole prison full of athletes, so athlete away! We can't waste all these oranges! ]


((ooc: Event information can be found here! There will be no individual threads for the separate events, but you are encouraged and welcome to detail in your headers or starter tags what your characters are up to! ))

It's a beautiful morning. Good morning, to old friends and to new. One more day will complete our first week here, Deanna and I. A lot seems to have happened in that short time; losses that some of us have felt very strongly, and we've made new friends, people that I hope to get to know better in the coming weeks.

I'd very much like to use this opportunity to meet more of the inmates here, and perhaps to speak more frankly with some of you those that I've already met, now that I've had the opportunity to get a better understanding of my surroundings. If anyone would like to speak in person, or join me on the ice, I'll be spending the next few hours at the ice rink in Sector 3. From what I hear the sparkly costumes are obligatory. [ There's a distinct sparkle to Riker's eyes as he speaks. ]


( Private to Helen Magnus )

( Private to Deanna )

( Private to Seven )

( Action )

Resistance is futile. Fu-tile. There is— There is something terribly presumptuous about the futility of resistance, when many species have proven themselves to be remarkably resilient. It's often that ability to resist that deems them worthy of interest, of assimilation; what makes them exceptional drones once they have been assimilated into the Collective. Thus, it is the very futility of resistance itself which makes the resistance futile.

Order brought to the chaos that rebelled against the order. That resisted it.

Resistance isn't futile at all. It's vital. Resistance— Resistance is vital.

[ someone made their way through the wine through the ages exhibit and sampled the available vintages. someone who literally has zero tolerance for synthehol alcohol. it didn't take much to push her to the point of intoxication and speeches misdirected at the network. ]

[ you. what are you doing here? ]

Hiding, like you. [ except— wait. no. this isn't right. this was familiar, almost tangible as if it were a collection of memory engrams locked away behind a series of unbreakable, undetectable algorithms that had begun to break free of their restraints. she knew this place, but it wasn't right. this— was not right at all. she didn't belong here. it wasn't her fault. that which she stood accused of wasn't her fault. an individual should not have to answer for the collective's wrongdoings.

she went away, like some do — she understood that much. or maybe she was still on the equinox. perhaps she was hallucinating. firm, unwavering in her stance, she'd been willing to perish instead of becoming what ransom and his crew had become. she wanted no part in any of it. she resisted. but he was trying to force her hand, made the doctor—

standing up, only dimly aware of the headset, of the feed, seven draws her hand across her temple and the metallic, ocular implant that's a stark contrast against pale skin and loose, bright blonde hair. she's intact, and an awkward, uncharacteristic clearing of her throat tells her that her auditory processor is operating under normal parameters. her voice is her own, controlled by her own will and not that of a hologram devoid of ethical subroutines.

only then, when she's certain that speaking will produce words and not song, does she address the dome directly. ]

My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01. I will not comply.

A long time had passed since Deanna had felt the distinct lack of her empathic powers. She had only felt this sort of emptiness once in her life before today and it was no better now than it had been then. Last time, she had thought she would forever be without them and felt as though she had lost a limb, but she was hopeful that this time she could figure out what had caused her to lose them in an effort to get them back. At least she had experience in dealing with this feeling. Not that this would help her much, but it was a start. It was better than nothing.

Unsure where she was or how she had gotten here, and feeling as lost and alone as she had ever felt in her life, Deanna wandered around the area. She passed what looked like a park of some sort, a library, and something that looked like a residential building. That seemed a little more permanent than she had been hoping for. She'd listened to the welcome message, but it definitely hadn't seemed like something the Federation would condone, which meant that she had been kidnapped somehow. That wasn't a good thing for many reasons and she didn't like to think of what Captain Picard might do when he found out, let alone Will Riker. It was inevitable that one of them would and she doubted either would take it well.

Still, being here was an opportunity to learn about a new location and Deanna intended to do as much information-gathering as she could despite the situation she had recently been exposed to and the one she was in now. What she really needed was a way to contact Starfleet, if not Captain Picard himself. She had found something that seemed like a communicator, but without having someone she trusted verify it, she was hesitant to use it. Whatever the case, she much preferred to make contact on her own terms and that included being in possession of her empathic abilities. So for now she kept searching the area. It wouldn't do her any good to stay in one place.




[ ooc: deanna can be found anywhere in the dome today, but she starts out in sector 2. ]

[ Today is a day where most would be at risk of oversleeping.The dome lies dark like in the dead of night. The sun hasn’t risen today, streetlights casting a dull yellow glow and occasionally flickering out into nothing, only to spark back to life a moment later. There is no electric flicker from the kiosk. The Wardens are still. The wardens are silent.

The dome isn’t silent. There is a rustling of leaves, a snapping of twigs. Claws, scraping against concrete. The inhuman screech of an animal in peril, an animal hunting, an animal hunted. A screech that promises sharp claws and sharper teeth and blood.

The dome isn’t still either. There is something moving, thick as a shadow, tangible as a chill down your spine. Something that doesn’t belong here, something that snuck in when no one was looking. A boogeyman under the bed. A ghost in the closet. A will o’ the wisp, blinking in and out of existence under the flickering streetlights. Whatever it is it’s moving, leaving a trail of cold, dead fear wherever it passes. Something dark. A shadow so pitch black that it blots out the very lights in your heart, dragging your fears out screaming and kicking, reducing even the strongest, toughest man to a blubbering baby.

Perhaps best to stay in bed today, Marina. ]

((OOC: Event information HERE. We ask the winners of the raffle to fill out a simple survey and then tag into the Vapor thread HERE! Happy mingling, Marinanites! ))

Hey, everyone. I was thinking about how back home, some of the senior officers used to get together a few times a week for a poker game. It's great stress relief. Even though we don't have money here, we could figure something out. I'm open to suggestions, or we could just play for chips and bragging rights. [He doesn't know about everyone, but he's competitive enough to make bragging rights a decent motivator.] We could even call it a club, so everyone could get some of those rehabilitation points toward things we want to ask for.

Oh, and if you don't know how to play but want to learn, it's not hard. It's just a matter of practice. And who knows? You might be a natural.

Anyone interested? I was thinking we'd start in a day or two.

[He's hoping the Captain and Data (the default dealer back on the Enterprise) will be up for this, but hey. Anyone who wants to get together and have fun is fine with him. Also, it's too bad Commander Riker was only here that one day; he'd probably have gotten a game together long ago if he'd stayed.]

[There are multiple peg boards set up in Sector 0 today—some tall, some short, some on wheels, some long, some magenta with glitter! But what do they all have in common? They are covered in pictures with familiar faces.

Maybe the face is many years younger and surrounded by family or maybe it's a shot taken in Marina (version 1 or 2!). Maybe it was a time when no cameras were present and yet here is the evidence of that moment in all it's candid glory.

You could have grabbed that really embarrassing or incriminating one and thought you were safe only to find out there were three duplicates! Sweet, horrific, sad, casual, posed, past, or present—the wardens are good at variety, so enjoy!]

(OOC: Plotting post for sharing pictures people might find on the boards.)

It had been a simple plan, but a plan that worked quite well as Locutus, while seemingly malfunctioning, still thought himself superior to the ones offering to assist him. The other Borg within the dome having left, a hole inside of him once again void of the Collective, even a stunted Collective. They had lured him with the human doctor, offering the alcove of the former Drone designation Seven of Nine in assistance in repairing him. If there was anything he knew of the humans, they would not bring more harm to this body as they were primarily sentimental creatures. And mostly, it was the use of the Borg tech that had made the decision for him.

Once there, he had slipped easily into the alcove, trusting the Starfleet officers and the human woman to use the tech as it was intended, rather than to somehow use it against him. But as he felt that other consciousness begin to gain in strength and seep through the cracks, he began to struggle, had to be restrained until everything seemed to go black and he felt the steady arms of the android and the blind malfunctioning human catch him before he crumbled to the floor.

Jean-Luc was awake, barely lucid at the moment as he felt the shift in consciousness inside his mind. The freedom to roam, so to speak, he fought his way out, tearing at mental walls and clawing at psychological floors to come back. His chest hurt. His mechanical heart that had suddenly failed him, forcing the other tech inside to turn on him. His face hurt where Locutus had clawed at his skin. His mind felt as if it had been turned inside out, dissected and traumatized to the point that he could barely think straight.

But there was some familiarity here as his eyes barely opened, blinking into a light too bright. His eyes, Jean-Luc’s eyes, worried and tired, questioning in a human way rather than the detached way of the Borg. Locutus was not there anymore.


ooc: Closed to Geordi, Data, Morgan & Helen

[ filtered to geordi & seven of nine; ]

I believe that, under the circumstances, it is necessary that we inform Lieutenant Robbins of the condition of the Captain. Though we should avoid divulging specifics as much as possible, I would consider providing her with an understanding of the current situation to be warranted.

Additionally, I feel that we should convene to review our progress, and our current available options.


[ filtered to morgan; ]

Lieutenant, if I may have a moment of your time - I wish to discuss our present situation with you.

[On screen is one (1) very wet, very much line facing, Kurt Ambrose. He's managed to get his expression under some control but he still manages to look frustrated as he talks, even as he tries to ignore the water dripping into his eyes.

Okay so he may have gone for a swim...after he tried to catch the fish to see if the sluggish feeling he had was just because of drugs or something else entirely weird. Said swim wasn't exactly what he was aiming for and he actually failed in his goal to start with, and he's now sitting on the beach as he contemplates it all and finally using the device.]

If this is an actual prison, then letting your prisoners near water after doing something to them where they could drown very easily is not the best way to keep your prisoners alive. [He is judging you so hard in other words and he's hoping the fact that he looks like a very tall Olympic athlete means he can intimidate some answers out of people.]

Apart from that if anyone has information as to why a military officer is being charged by what I can only guess is a bunch of civilians I would very much like an answer. [And then there's a sigh.] Please. And if someone wouldn't mind showing me where I can find a place to stay as I figure this place out I would appreciate it.

[ kelly only addresses the communication device after she's made sure it's not a bomb or rigged to send a signal to someone else or some sort of covenant communication device that's liable to go off in her face. this involves dropping it several times, even after she finally turns the damn thing on. up, down, up, down, up -- she looks frustrated, which for a spartan means she's very angry. she's trying to channel that anger into getting things done, finding out information, and generally being productive, but it's difficult when her entire body is slow and all of her senses are incredibly dulled. she feels blind, deaf, numb, and deathly slow and she does not like it at all. ]

I need to speak with whoever is in charge here. [ her voice is hard, maybe a little cold, as though she's trying her hardest to keep herself under control. ] They need to learn a lesson: if they want someone's cooperation, drugging and stripping them isn't the way to gather favor. [ she's being horribly affected by the power dampeners and it's throwing her off. ]

I don't appreciate being drugged or kidnapped [ even if that's happened to her before ] and I won't stay here. You can keep your play at prison for someone else.

[ for those watching along at home, kelly does appear human, but she's extremely muscular, looking closer to a lifelong body-builder than an actual normal person. and she's twitchy if this is anything to go by. she pauses for just a moment, hesitant to add on one more thing to her list of complaints. ]

And someone has my-- [ a pause as she debates how to address that. ] --clothes.

[ In the dome in the morning ]

[ Jean-Luc, normally a very vibrant individual, normally a man with a mission and a purpose, no matter what that purpose might be, is standing very still in the middle of the dome. He’s in sector zero. Near the kiosk. Studying it with intense scrutiny, too still for any normal human being. ]


[ private to Helen ]

Doctor Magnus, I’m afraid I find it necessary to postpone tea. Perhaps we can meet tomorrow?


[ private to Trek crew ]

Is anyone…? [ There’s a moment of hesitation here, abnormal for this Captain on a normal day. He clears his throat and seems to come into himself, more stern and self-assured. ] Report.




ooc: Part 2 of the Locutus plot. The Trek muns know that Locutus is peeking into Picard’s consciousness. But anyone else who runs into him, he won’t be acting quite like himself!

[After yesterday, Megan is not quite herself. She'd had to tell others in the therapy group she had been put in what she actually was. So there was really no point in hiding it anymore, was there? Those outside of her circle of friends already knew. How could she possibly keep it hidden if people she barely even knew knew her secret?]

Good morning, Marina. That was quite a day yesterday wasn't it. I'm sure we all said some things yesterday.

But there was something I revealed yesterday and I can't keep it hidden anymore. It isn't right.

[With that, her pale skin turns green, quite clear green]

My real name is M'gann M'orzz. I am a Martian. This is how I really look. I didn't want to deceive you anymore.

[ooc: if your character was at the "accept yourself" therapy session, feel free to assume that they heard her admit this already]

[Anyone summoned to Time-Space Shenanigans Group Therapy will wander down to the Education Center in Sector 2. Specifically, to a large physics lab, which has been outfitted for a day of scientific learning. The first table, near the entrance, has pastries, cookies, endless bowls of fruit, and jugs of lemonade, water, and various sodas. There are bots hovering around the table, as they know that one (or possibly more) of their guests has an endless appetite. Just ignore them - the bots are pretty much there to re-stock the food table.

The other lab tables each have a stack of cards, with instructions to get into pairs and answer them as honestly as possible, making sure to give everyone ample time to answer questions. The tables also have demonstrations for various physics experiments on each table, though they require 2-3 people to get started. Each lab table - except for the one with food - also has a small bowl of candy hidden inside each lab experiment. Although there is no music in the background, there is a soft 'tick-tock' from multiple clocks on each of the walls. Each clock, strangely enough, reads a different time than the one next to it. Not a single one of them is in sync, despite the harmonious tick-tock sounds coming from them.]

( Possible Activity Ideas )

[OOC: Yet another mingle! These are not all the questions - feel free to make some more up if you desire. Also, the questions and lab demonstrations are merely suggestions; if there is another topic that would fit well for you, make it a reality. Today is a day of learning about the horror stories that come with messing with the 4th Dimension, after all.]

[Welcome to the culture shock group, not that there are any posters or robots telling you why you were all put together. Instructions for this gathering lead to Sector 2's Två Park, where robots will lead their therapy subjects through the hedge maze back to the butterfly pavilion. The space is both open and secluded. Benches have been set up and there is a table with a variety of tempting treats and beverages toward the back which is nice because no one is leaving until there is significant interaction. That much is clear.

There is another table has two signs and a stack of cards. The first sign reads, "Find something in common with each person with whom you speak."

The second, placed next to the cards, says, "Draw cards, read the scenario to a partner. Take turns answering the questions. Discuss the differences or similarities of your answers."

On the end of the table there is booklet with other prompt ideas as well.

( Possible scenarios )