MarinaNova Asylum

[ it's not until he's got cordelia safe and sound at his place and garnered a promise to stay there from her does he head out for his scheduled patrol with buffy. whether or not she keeps that promise and listens to him is, as always, up in the air, but he feels better about leaving her alone for a while having obtained it. treating a woman he knows can defend herself (he was the one who taught her, after all) like glass is ridiculous, but after having lost her once - three times, if he counts when she went missing in higher being land and fell into that coma - he's not going to take any chances. he's holding on like she might slip away at any moment, and what that means--

he doesn't want to think about what that means. any of it. not right now. (especially not now.) all that matters is he's got his best friend back and that's good enough for him. beggars can't be choosers.

by the time he arrives at the new dome's version of a cemetery, it's a little after midnight. angel picks a random gravestone and takes a seat, waiting for buffy to arrive and/or pick up on his presence. ]

Welcome to Day 176 of the first generation. The weather will be just like yesterday's. Hopefully you haven't forgotten what it was like already.

You have been some very, very naughty criminals. We bring you to an even more posh prison, and you practically trip over yourselves to gouge each other's eyes out. How crude. We may have to offer an eye patch hut at this point.

The following inmates have been found guilty of breaking facility rules and full details of their punishments are being transmitted to their devices.

Jack Noir: Assault
Prospitian Monarch: Injury
Cain: Assault and attempted murder, destruction of property, and injury
Rion Steiner: Assault and injury
Dirk Strider: Attempted robot damage
Vriska Serket: Destruction of property

For those of you who can keep your hands to yourselves you may enjoy a little treat in sector 0 today. There will be a photo booth open for public use for those of you who are sentimental.

Requested items for Elena Gilbert, Bruce Banner, Atton Rand are now available for pick up at the kiosk. Nothing terribly interesting among them I'm afraid.

(OOC: Kiosk requests will be handled by Veridical unless otherwise requested.)

[After the announcement, her communicator clicks on. PM, outfitted with a new silver restraining collar, is lying in the bed she shares with WV and AR (who is hogging the blankets and more than a third of the bed thanks to being skewed diagonally). For the unfamiliar, the three of them are of a hard-shelled alien race--PM is pure sparkly white, and the other two a shiny beetle black.]

[As she starts to wake up, the situation seems so nonsensical that she doesn’t register it as anything more than an odd dream. There’s a span of confused, puzzled squinting with her remaining eye as she reads the summary of her punishment, and finds that no, she can’t turn her feed off. The very moment that the situation fully dawns on her is clear--a sudden widening of her eye, tension returning to her body. She pushes out of bed and strides out, her pajama gown billowing a bit behind her, and she ignores any half-asleep protests from her "dear friends." It takes all of her self-control to gently close the bedroom door.]

[She makes her way to the balcony of their Sector 2 home, which is at or near the top of the apartment complex, given the spectacular view. Only once she’s outside does she let herself explode.]

Excuse me, WHAT?!

[Her whole body is trembling with incredulous rage. Even if the rules had said something about being punished for injury, she didn't actually expect that to apply the one time when she was more victim than mutual combatant. It just seemed too bizarre to be real. PM grips the glowing gold ring that hangs around her neck as she takes a deep, calming breath.]

[Her voice is strong and has an angry edge, but she is otherwise in control.] Good morning. This is PM. It seems that the wardens are forcing me to broadcast myself today.

And this is why.

[They don’t want her to keep secrets? Fine. She’ll oblige. The alien queen brings her injured wrist up and points to her gauze-covered eye socket.]

Yesterday, a man named Jack Noir, known also as the Sovereign Slayer, ambushed me while I was decorating and preparing the new post office. He stabbed me through my wrist to pin me to the floor, and then gouged out my eye.

This punishment is for letting myself get hurt.

... Be careful, everyone.

[That offered, she stalks back inside to go about her day. And you all get to come with her!!]

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((OOC: PM will be 100% trollable all day! About anything!! Everything she does is stalkable!!! ( Click through for more deets. )

[ In retrospect, Dirk had been pretty rash in that attempt. If it's as PM says and how long he spends here has no bearing on the amount of time that passes back home, he can afford to take his time. He really doesn't want to and it pisses him off just how little say he has over what's going on here, but he has to gather more information. It will all work out in the end.

And in the meantime... ]

"You are restricted to your home for three days. Robots will bring you a food allotment. You may entertain visitors and use the network, but you'll be unable to leave." Um... Is this supposed to be punishment? I don't get it. Where's the psychological distress? The grueling physical labor? You're relegating me to three days of my exact living arrangement before you kidnapped me, only in a nicer apartment with food provided at no cost.

Might as well dress those bots up as sexy French maids, because I'm living it up over here.

[ He's exaggerating how okay he is with this. ]

[Jack gets the network's attention by turning on his headset and whipping it across the room so everyone gets to enjoy the sound of the microphone coming in contact with something heavy. Unlike PM, Jack has not taken his ring off (or if he has, its not off now), so the strange winged, dog-like humanoid is walking over to retrieve the headset. Unlike the day before, he's fitted with a shiny silver collar.

It looks like he's finally taken up residence somewhere, though the room is pretty dark. With what little light is filtering in the room, people watching the feed might notice a few shelves with some strange odds and ends stacked on them. Nothing really special, to the naked eye -- in fact, it just makes him look like a pack rat.

The oddest among them seems to be a jar with a preserved, pure black eye floating in it.]

These robots think I'm gonna do shit for you assholes.

They got a funny sense of humor.

[Having not actually run into Venom yet, at least in person, Peter is feeling pretty good today. Maybe it's the supposedly fresh air of the morning, or the fact he's a little nerdy and excited about a potential date on the horizon... That is the reason he's crouched up on Speaker Island, checking it out for the sake of a good vantage point and potential Impress The Girl Points. As long as they're not up there when announcements ring out, it seems fair.

The getting up here again should be fun. But at least the getting down is cool. Known through experience as he takes a neat acrobatic dive off the side, free falling before arcing into a swing with a well shot webline.

Maybe also yelling Yahoo! Because really, it's fun. Never stops being fun.]

[Jane's been waiting for an hour. Surely this place isn't that large, to make Thor not show up in that length of time.]

Thor? Where are you? I've been waiting for an hour now.

[someone sure is in the hospital, maybe for the day. his head is wrapped up tight in gauze, but he otherwise looks okay. his index and middle finger on his right hand are also splinted, for now.]

...For anyone who had to see what happened yesterday: I'm okay—no one needed to see that broadcast. Sorry to those of you who had to see it, and...thanks to those of you who did whatever you did to bring me to the hospital... I'm sorry to have troubled you.

[the video feed cuts—
( private to Cain; impossible to hack )