MarinaNova Asylum

Fine, don't let me set up any roots. Keep shuffling me in and out of this place like a sad, spider-decorated Joker in the deck. It's not like I want to have an apartment or anything, or that I like taking a nap and waking up at the next informal meeting of displaced strangers awaiting their next coma. Really! But seriously, I had a really nice place and it's all taken over by strangers and [head shake!] a homeless spider is a sad spider. And I had things... Eugh.

So don't mind me setting up web in the center of town. I'll have a mad speaker system tonight for anyone who wants to chill.

[And the camera's shaky before it pulls back to show the start of a hanging web dangling from Sector 0's speaker island. Peter has to put on some more finishing touches but it's a nice little bachelor bubble that he scampers up to before giving the lens a peace sign and clicking out. The rest of the day he'll be seen adding to it or swinging around town because he's well aware he'll likely be gone by sunrise.]

{Maedhros is hardly surprised to find himself imprisoned. But this is far more pleasant than the Void described of Morgoth's prison that the red-haired elf has some trouble figuring out what to do with himself. He takes to wandering, exploring with a mix of curiosity, pain, misery, and guilt above all.

It's not hard for an elf, even one-handed, to find water, and the beach is one of the places he comes across and stays the longest. The park in Sector Four also draws him, and he spends some time searching- motions a little frantic as if he's looking for something {or someones} very small. He's one of the few not wearing the headset he'd been given, the technology being something rather beyond his interests.}


(OOC: Feel free to poke at Maedhros' journal for character information. IC, go ahead and run into him anywhere between Sections One and Four, along with the Hub.)

[ The feed turns on to reveal what appears to be a young man clad in a mostly red superhero uniform with a lightning bolt insignia displayed on the chest that might be familiar to some people in the dome. ]

Look. I usually wouldn't mind doing a little work to figure out what nefarious scheme is going on here and who is behind it, but I'm sort of on a tight schedule at the moment. You see, it's Flash Appreciation Day today in Central City. I mean, there's going to be a museum opening, the mayor is giving me the key to the city, and I'm probably even going to have to give a speech; which reminds me that I should probably write one if I don't want to look like an idiot. Heck, I even talked Bats into coming to the ceremony!

[ That's actually the last thing he remembered doing before he woke up in this strange place with no idea how he got here. Too bad he missed out on that all too helpful welcoming message to fill in the blanks. ]

Anyway, the point is it's going to be a very big day. Not just for me, but for everyone involved. And I don't think those fine people would appreciate it much if the Flash doesn't show up for his own appreciation day after all the hard work they've put into it. Not to mention I still have like a million things to do beforehand. That's a lot of things even for someone that's as fast as me.

So, if someone could be so kind to point me in the right direction, I'll try to have us all out of here by lunch.

Video
[Mary Poppins looks quite displeased when she pops up. She primps her hair once before speaking.]

I see the wardens have felt the need to pull be back here, though I'm sure I don't know why. I woke up in my charges' nursery the next morning and no one was the wiser. However, it seems I must play their silly game. If anyone would care to join me, I'm going to have tea in the butterfly garden in the center of the smallish labyrinth.

Action

Mary Poppins indeed sat at the center of the butterfly pavilion with a neat little table set perfectly for tea. A small tray of sandwiches and another of biscuits sat in the middle of the table, along with the cream and sugar. All that waited was some company. But Mary herself looked quite at home, sipping the tea and conversing with the butterflies flitting about her.

[The video is extremely unsteady, like the person in control of it is shaking for some reason. The person in control of it, one Allen Walker, is a strange-looking white-haired teenager with a very unusual facial scar and a very, very aggravated expression.]

Someone either needs to get this damn cuff off me, or Johnny Gill had better get here right bloody now.

[He gets awfully rude when he's annoyed, doesn't he? Don't worry -- you might find an explanation in the next instant when the cuff suddenly zaps him with visible sparks of electricity and he yelps, the video twitchily swinging away from him. He can just be heard grumbling, "Ughh when I get my hands on him" before it turns off.]

Scenario One

Looking murderous, the small, filthy boy keeps climbing on top of things and leaping off them - as though he's trying to fly. Only when he hits the ground, he growls. Or maybe he'll eventually curl up into a ball and cry.

Scenario Two

Peter found paste. Ooey, gooey, sticky paste. And he's walking around sticking things to... things. Leaves to windows. Paper to trees. Sticks to EVERYTHING. He even tried to stick himself to a wall! And when he got tired of that, well, the paste was rather tasty, so he sits down in the middle of the road to eat.

Scenario Three

If he can't have a real sword, Peter will make do with a fake one. A stick. OK, it's not perfect, but he's doing the best he can, sneaking around one of the parks and jumping out at unsuspecting people, challenging them to a fight. Or fighting trees.

[Video]

[He wasn't going to do this. Really, he wasn't. But it's been two hours, and he hasn't heard any explosions, which can only mean one thing. His friends are not here. So hi, MarinaNova, have a pretty human-looking alien staring at you. The expression on his face is nil.]

I'm not going to contest any of the charges against me. I just want to know why the rest of my crew aren't here. They committed the same crimes and were with me at the time of apprehension.

I may have overlooked something. If you think you've run into one of these people, please let me know.

( Description of Joe's buddies under the cut! )

Thanks.

[...That's the most Joe's ever spoken in one sitting, so he's just. Awkwardly going to turn off the video feed now.]

[Action]

[If you're in Sector 1, there's a young man standing right outside the pet café, staring avidly at the entrance. Oh, how he wants to go in. But what if the animals don't like him? Animals not liking him is Joe Gibken's biggest nightmare.]

Looks like I got lost for a couple months. So this is what one of those visitor days looks like from the other side. Dunno if I'll be sticking around, but hey. How's everyone doing? What'd I miss?

[the video flashes on, revealing surf and sand and... one adolescent boy staring out into the sea looking a mix between utterly confounded and frustrated]

Why does a prison have a beach? [this is so confusing to young teenagers who have never been to jail before okay] I can buy the rest, like the fact that we're under water, which is fine -- since the government likes keeping secrets and wasting money -- so whatever, they built a secret jail dome under the sea.

[damien comes to a stop, visibly working to keep calm.]

But don't expect me to believe that this is it. Coddling so-called criminals with this? [his voice drops, he might have been calm before, but now he's just angry and serious] I want to know what's going to happen to me.

[is he going to be experimented on? was this really the government? was it another rival rebel group?? why is this day going so badly]

[or, find damien at trois park who is currently dipping a hand into the koi pond and bothering fish... what else can he do yo]

Mi-do Yoon, this had better not be some kind of joke. First you rope me into your ridiculous detective club, and now you stick me in some fake prison for helping you guys out? Trespassing? Sheesh! This is stupid!

[A pink vampire has a cup of tomato juice (yes, really tomato juice) in one hand, and her communicator in the other, tapping away. In the crook of her elbow is a closed parasol. She's got pink streaks in her black hair, and she is excitedly taking in all the sights of Sector 0.]

Eh?! Jail?! [She's been reading her welcome message.] ... What? But we had to do that, or Spectra and all the other ghost kids were going to be trapped there forever! [She suddenly looks around herself. No chains. Good.] And Valentine had that coming!

[Sigh, and pouting while she sucks on the straw to her tomato juice.] Clawd, I miss you... [sniff sniff like she's about to start crying]

[The video feed is very, very dark; the room is dimly lit by candles so old that trails of wax have encrusted them to their holders. But it reminds him of home. It's quiet and lonesome, the sound of tin and glass clinking before Tyki lowers himself into a seat at one end of a dark lacquered table. More like falls into it, with a bruise forming on his jaw and a sallow, nearly waxy complexion hidden behind grown stubble and thick rimmed glasses. Waking up with an integral part of your being forcibly removed and dealing with that sudden loss takes a lot out of a man; especially one who heavily relied on the balance to keep him... sane. The pleasure checkmated the guilt into submission time and time again and now it's just an aggravating mess and a sour taste left in his mouth.

His bar was just a slathering of salt into an open wound, though oddly deserved. He would've admitted that before, perhaps, but it still irks him to see his place taken over. No, no it was Greed's bar. Perhaps that's why it bothers him so much now-- because it was born on a human connection and that's all he has now. A pitiful human existence. He draws a tall bottle of wine close and fills a dented tin cup with it. No glitz, no glamor here. Just aches and pains, a miserable existence and a strangely human presence behind his dark eyes.]

You know who you are and what you did. [He drinks, tipping back his cup.

His voice is raspy and he drops the empty cup onto the table, slouching backward against the wall.] Congrats. You won.

[And then he reaches forward to shut off the broadcasting feed.]