MarinaNova Asylum

[ so. take #39487. not that anybody'd know. not that it matters. all that comes to the screen is a slightly tired-looking boy in the jumpsuit of a newbie, making faces at his feet as the lens flickers back on—and is it slightly more battered in its recording than most would be? well, maybe. maybe you're just imagining things. ]

Shit, this feels weird... like some kinda public service announcement or something...

[ but he laughs, low and easy—touches the back of his neck in old habit as his wry mouth curves. ]

I guess the first thing I wanna ask is—how many people're in here anyway?

[Jack's been here a couple of hours. He spent the first hour disbelieving and furious, but wary of letting that show too much after his initial, instinctive bout of yelling – which he didn't broadcast, although sorely tempted to, because he's been kidnapped before and he doesn't want to get in too much trouble until he knows far better what he's up against. So he kept his head down and started exploring to get the lay of the land and find out what he had to work with here.

[And then he found the beach. He'd never lost his love of the sea from growing up beside an ocean, and he was out of the horrible orange jumpsuit and into the water before he'd even thought about it. Even if the waves and the sun on his back weren't quite natural, an hour or so of vigorous swimming calmed him down a lot. Enough to make his first transmission on the network with a decent amount of composure and a fair imitation of his normal cocky grin.

[He's still naked, by the way. It's kind of lucky (or maybe not, depending on your point of view) that the video doesn't extend below the waist. Not that Jack cares what you see. He's sprawled on the beach, the waves breaking gently behind him, feeling the sun on his tanned skin, and he's smiling. After all these years of practice, it's a pretty convincing smile.]

So. MarinaNova. [He rolls the name around his mouth, trying it out.] What've we got? Any hot babes here? Or hot guys – I'm really not picky. Maybe some Italian stud who actually looks good in orange? There'd better be something good to pass the time if I'm supposed to be here for the rest of my life!

[It's been less than a day since she accidentally discovered a bottle of dilaudid in Reid's sock drawer. How many times in those hours had she wondered if he was back there now taking the drug? How many times had she considered going back to see if it was where she last saw it?

Too many.

It isn't a feeling she likes. Kitty trusts Reid and loves him, but addiction isn't something she has a lot of experience with outside of her cigarettes, and that seems more like habit to her. More than once already today she's started to open a feed to the network before closing it again. She's not sure what she should say or how quickly it will get back to Reid if she says anything. He was in an addiction group just yesterday making it even more likely someone will recognize her hypothetical plea for what it really is.

But the fourth time she begins she doesn't stop. She needs some guidance with this one.]

I'm looking for someone with training or experience in handling addiction.

[Action]
[Miranda's pet vulpix Lee is playing in grass with a few stuffed balls and bells, enjoying himself while Miranda works on the pruning and weeding her memorial garden. She's been at it for an hour or so now, but her distracted thoughts have made it take longer than it normally would.

Still, the thing she has in mind...she wonders if it would do any good. If people would approve or if last week was exactly the kind of reception she would receive. It's been sitting with her for hours and the idea hasn't left.]

[Video]
[She stares nervously into the camera, taking a deep breathing and trying to figure out how to say what she means in the most effective way.]

Um. Good afternoon. I know that things were um...very tense and not exactly comfortable for many people y-yesterday. And I know that not everyone will agree with me, but...I wonder if maybe the problem wasn't...having a place where we could talk about things, but that...well, we didn't have much of a choice in where, when, or what we were supposed to speak of.

[She smiles a little, awkwardly brushing some of her hand behind her ear so it wasn't in her face anymore.]

So I was wondering if...um, anyone would be interested in joining a...group that would meet every few days to just...talk? About anything! What you like, hobbies you had back home, or maybe even things that...others in the group could help you with. [Then she adds quickly.] I-It would be purely voluntary! And we could um...change the location or the topic and you wouldn't even have to talk i-if you didn't want to. You could just come and see that...we're not as different as we think we are.

That's...um...That's it. If you want, y-you can speak with me privately, an-and I promise I won't tell anyone anything you say in confidence. Thank you for your time. [She bows just a bit before cutting the feed.

...Only to turn it back on a minute later looking very repentant.] Oh! I'm so sorry! My name is Miranda Lotto. In--um--In case you want to speak with me directly. Thank you. [And she cuts it again.]