MarinaNova Asylum

[ video ]

[ his face is stern when he finally turns on his device, broadcasting to the dome at large and none too pleased at this newest state of being but hoping to root out any others who may have escaped his notice. It would not surprise him in the least if others of his crew were hiding. ]

It appears as though our captors have decided to flee before answering any of our questions. I may not be able to immediately get to the bottom of this incident, but you can rest assured I will do everything in my power to get each and every one of you back to your homes where you rightfully belong.

[ and then he flashed a smile ]

In the meanwhile, I suggest you take it easy and relax while you can. There’s no sense stirring up trouble before we even know where we stand, wouldn’t you agree?

[ and trust him, he fully plans on digging up as much information on these wardens just as soon as he regroups with his crew. Don’t think he hasn’t seen that directory. Signing off the air, he immediately sends out a second call, directly to Jean-Luc Picard. ]

[ private to Picard – audio ]

Captain, this is Riker reporting for duty. Have the others checked in, already?

[ he has no way of knowing they have no need to. He simply sees them in the directory along with a few other people of potential interest. ]


((ooc: Riker from Star Trek: The Next Generation is taken from Season 06x24 – Second Chances. Action available for anyone who’d like to run into him at the store getting a change of clothes or standing outside the kiosk in sector zero!))

[ helen appears on the feed looking composed as usual. she's not yet taking her duty shift at the clinic, so she's actually sitting at her table in her apartment. regardless, she's sitting up straight as usual. ]

As it seems we're to be inundated with new arrivals and familiar and unfamiliar faces, I'd like to remind everyone that the clinic is still operational. We're more than willing to see anyone who may need our help. Don't let anything keep you away if you'd like to stop by.

In the meantime, I'd like to pose a question I find myself curious about. I realize it seems we have little need for differing languages, but I'm curious to know which ones other people know. I'm fluent in a great many of Earth's languages, current as of the year 2011, both regularly used ones and ones that are considered "dead." No real reason for asking. Consider it the scholar in me who's truly curious.

[ she pauses for a moment, obviously on the verge of saying something else before she finally decides to continue. ]

Nikola, if you see this, answer. I'd rather not have you wandering around terrorizing everyone. [ she fully expects him to snap at her for this... if her instincts aren't correct and for once, she hopes they aren't. ]

[ filtered to investigative team ]

Greetings. For those with whom I have not spoken directly, my name is Data. In the interest of putting this announcement in the proper context, it seems wisest that I begin by explaining that I am an android. As such, I possess the ability to accurately record and recall any information to which I am exposed. Some of you may be aware that, during our time in Squall Asylum, we made use of this in order to record information in the absence of any other means by which to do so.

Though we have since returned to MarinaNova, I have agreed to continue doing so in order to gradually compile an organized database of our working knowledge that we can search, compare, reference, and update. While I will still be taking reports personally, I will also be constructing a computer system with which I am capable of interfacing to store and to provide access to these files to all team members for their own investigative research purposes. This will take some time with the materials which are available to us, but I believe it is possible. This would prevent any loss of information were I to become lost, or damaged.

If anyone has any input, suggestions, or questions regarding this project, or would be interested in assisting, I would be most welcoming of any cooperation.


[ filtered to rebecca crane ]

I hope that you do not mind my contacting you directly. It was suggested by Doctor Reid that I initiate a conversation with you, specifically regarding what he described as your attempts to compile an encyclopedia of available knowledge on the facility. He believes that we may benefit from coordinating our efforts and possibly integrating all of our information into a single database with various levels of access as would apply to that which is restricted to the Investigative Team, and that which is available for public perusal. I would be happy to work cooperatively on this endeavor, if you wish.


[ open in dome / potential trekpartment action ]

[ After making the post, Data busies himself looking into the technology and components which are available and gauging their potential usefulness. He's built devices out of objects far less advanced, but he believes he may still have to request some items from the wardens. Somehow, he has his doubts about how well that will go. So the more he can manage to do with what they have available to them, the better.

At the same time, there is another matter on his mind - Geordi has had a couple of days to become accustomed to his surroundings and seems to be adjusting well. Probably a good time to properly introduce Annika in context of their relationship, at the next point they're all together. Ah. Anxiety. Still a curious sensation. ]

[ she's actually using the video feature for this post and she's looking... well, what can be seen of her doesn't look great, but neither does it look awful. her arms aren't visible, which is probably for the best, and her cheeks are almost healed. thank goodness for superficial and quickly-healed injuries. either that or she's at just the right angle that it's difficult to see. for those who have run into her lately, she looks almost pleasant and she certainly sounds much better than she did a few days ago. ]

For those who may be interested, Sector 3 now has a medical clinic. It won't replace the hospital, by any means, but I thought, under the circumstances, there might be others like myself who would feel better being cared for by a fellow inmate.

[ at least she knows she'll feel better with it here. ]

I've only received permission to deal with small things, so consider it more of a nurse's station and less a doctor's office. However... [ here she gives a slight pause. this is where things will get interesting. ] I assure you that I am more than capable of handling anything necessary. My experience covers everything from papercuts to burns to complex neurological surgeries and I can take care of any species that walks across the threshold, be it human or something else entirely.

[ she means that, actually. ]

In light of that, I would also like to offer informal lessons. If you'd like to offer assistance or simply want to know more about medicine from the late 1800's to 2011, by all means. I would welcome the company.

Good day to all of you.


[ ooc: info post is here for anyone interested. ]

<sub>[He didn't expect for a prison to look like this. Where were the bars and shackles? It seemed the wardens were thoroughly convinced an ankle monitor would be enough to control their prisoners. At first he hat thought he was captured for the sake of capturing or taken by a familiar enemy but the wardens claimed no association with his enemies, even after reading off a list of crimes he had committed that only an obsessive enemy would bother to compile.

Now he was outside in what looked like a city. What type of prison was this? Surely the city was just a friendly looking act hiding the real life of the inmates. The Doctor found a bench and took a seat. Pulling up his leg and the orange material, he stopped to have a look at the ankle monitor. This device would be difficult to remove any time soon without his sonic screwdriver. At least the wardens had not realized the psychic paper was more than a blank notebook.

After examining the monitor he turned on the network device he had been issued. It wouldn't hurt to greet the other inmates and find out what type of people had also been imprisoned. After fooling around pressing buttons he finally started a feed.]</sub>

Hello! I just arrived here and I'd like to speak with any prisoners who have been here for a while. I'd like to meet with you and talk about our situation and whatever the wardens left out of the introduction speech. I appear to be in "Sector Zero" right now.

_{[As he sends out this message he looks around the area. Perhaps there were other prisoners nearby willing to speak with him.]}

[Look who's back. Back again. Look who's back tell a friend. He looks livid but more rational, for now.]

How could I possibly have been asleep for 45 days?!

[Wake up and smell the lack of coffee. You're on a bunk bed. Maybe you're a top and maybe you're a bottom. There are five other people in your room. Maybe they're friends or enemies or faces you barely recognize if at all. It doesn't matter much. You can leave this room and you don't need to come back to it.

You should get your rations though. You're probably hungry. You're definitely a little sluggish of body. What happened to that bruise you got sparing yesterday? What happened to your newly dyed hair? Mystery, mystery... Move along. Find the public bathrooms and do your business with a hundred of your closest friends.

Find the kiosk and get your rations. Careful not to let anyone steal them. You won't get more until tomorrow and the bots won't care. They aren't here to hold your hand. If you get sick or hurt and they deem it necessary they will take you to the hospital whether you wish it or not. But why dwell on such things? You're here now and you might as well enjoy it. You even get a free day today.]

(OOC: OOC info. This mingle takes place in the Main shelter over the morning hours.

An underwater prison. I have to admit, that is a first...

[The face that greets the viewer is one that looks more curious than anything else. She has lively blue eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. She also has a row of dots starting on each side of her face, going down beneath that teal and black uniform she is wearing.]

This is Lieutenant Commander Dax to... anyone that can hear? …Benjamin? Deep Space Nine? Hmm.

[And she pokes around on the buttons for several moments, trying several things. The feed cuts for a time, before it comes back.]

Well. I think this may very well count for one of the strangest situations I have found myself in, and I have had some strange hellos before.

[That is said with a touch of amusement in her voice. After all, she does have not only her own experiences to draw upon, but also those of seven other hosts.]

My name is Jadzia Dax, and I must say, that was not exactly the way I like to wake up in the morning- or even the night. What I can tell is that I am no longer on Deep Space Nine- or on any spaceship, unless this is a holosuite program, and I am finding that rather hard to believe.

[A knowing look although there is a mischievous glint to her eyes.]

My commbadge also seems to be missing, along with my uniform, so any information would be greatly appreciated.

Well, that was unexpected.

[ the very confident and ultimately extremely british voice sounds rather less frightened than it likely should, considering the person attached to it just got told she's in prison for the rest of her life. helen's not really buying that. let them try to keep her here. ]

I have to say -- [ she raises her voice just slightly, as though speaking to the communicator isn't enough. she'd like to catch the attention of the "wardens," if possible. ] -- I usually favor face-to-face discussions, like civilized adults. None of this "enjoy your stay" from afar.

[ she supposes it could be worse. she could be stuck in a prison with addison. she pauses for a moment to internally shudder at that. dear god, if addison's here, she'll probably throw something.

at some point she'll drop the bite to her voice, but that point isn't right now. ]

I suppose the term "extenuating circumstances" means little to you. Allow me to let you in on a little secret: the last time someone tried to hold me hostage against my will, a friend and I blew them up. I'd rather not have the same happen here.

[ and with that, she cuts the communication. bait set. time to see who bites. ]

[Earlier in the morning, Derek is running around the Defense Force headquarters. Mostly, he’s been acquainting himself with the updated roster for the Force, especially his Investigative Team. He sends out a quick message to said Investigative Team informing them that there will be a meeting that afternoon at three. It isn’t mandatory so if they miss it, it’s not a big deal. But they will be discussing a course of action to try to learn more about the prison.

As he also notes that his sector patrol team has changed, he decides to touch base with the new people as well. He’s not a huge fan of changes, but he handles it better if he gets the upper hand on it. So during his lunch break (street food stands in sector 0), he tosses them a private message.]

[ private voice to Terry McGinnis and Zero Kiryuu ]
Hey, name’s Derek Morgan. I see we work Sector One together and thought we should touch base so we know who we’re workin’ with.


ooc: The Investigative team meeting is a mingle. Derek will intro and let them know what it’s about, but feel free to thread with anyone in attendance. Also, anyone is free to run into Derek at HQ or when he breaks for lunch.

[Rose can be found sitting in the middle of the pet cafe. Despite the fact that she's got a passel of kittens crawling over her, one on her shoulder and is cuddling one in both hands, she looks miserable. She's obviously been crying a lot and fairly recently. There's a definite pout & mope sort of expression to her face. When she speaks, her voice reflects her expression.]

Doctor's gone.

I was thinkin' 'bout gettin' a kitten.

[Before he left actually, but she thinks it's an even better idea now.]

Call him Doctor. Maybe John Smith or Oncomin' Storm. Y'know. Somethin' like that.

[ It was mid-morning. The sky was clear and it was a (not so) very blustery day. It was cool but it was always cool. It was neither too warm nor too hot.

Lukewarm.

And that was just how Bak preferred it. Especially since he had in hand his very important, extra special concoction of wonderful forgetfulness on hand! Bak could stand teasing, but even this was getting ridiculous.

Hefting the bag a little higher so it fit snug into the crook between elbow and shoulder, he stepped off into wild world of Marinanova and promptly had to grab onto his hat.

Opps. He always forgot about that step down.

Taking another step, he nearly tripped again, this time on a rock. Frowning, Bak starred at the offending piece of debris and then he kicked it.

And yelped.

And then held his foot, dropping his bag in a near blinding rush of ”Eeeek!” as he dived for the paper bag, watching as with a POOF half of the contents disappeared into the wind, leaving him sneezing and dazed on the ground wondering what the heck had just happened. Clearly, his own formula had been getting the best of him. It happens when one sneaky scientist messes with the formula and Bak spent the better part of the morning putting the final touches of the mixture together.

Heightened emotions indeed.

Bak will rue this day assuming he survived it. ]

((ooc: Consider this post an open mingle and the start of the Marina Feelings Roulette Event! Creating your own posts is, as always, highly encouraged. And, unless you got an extra hefty dose of it right off the bat (re: by being in proximity to Bak when it happened) feelings should gradually start to go haywire later in the day with strongest feelings in the afternoon and tapering off again as evening descends. For more info on the details, please go here. Have fun!))

[video];


[The feed opens centered on Tear, professionalism nearly flawless-- it's not nerves, so much as simply not being used to do this. At least her even tone doesn't betray her]

There are several people I recall responding to Pepper Potts' initial planning of a book club some time ago. With Ms. Potts now gone, Peggy Carter and I have decided to continue with its organization, and so we would like to know who may still be interested. Of course, arrivals since then or anyone else hearing of this for the first time, as well.

Thank you.



[action]; sector 5, afternoon


[With the rains over, she can be spotted making a round in the Memorial Gardens to see how her recent flowerbeds have fared-- it's a familiar activity to boost "rehab points"-- before migrating to the Graveyard, taking a few moments before the solitary pillar there, and the tiny little plot in front of it. Like the other beds, it's too soon for anything to have sprouted, though the rain will certainly help.

Maybe it's because some names engraved there are personal, or maybe because there's nothing here for them yet, that she kneels down after a time, not bothered in the slightest by the still wet grass as she starts to set glyphs circles and craft a few of the crystal flowers she made for Garcia the day before. They'll last no more than a week, but they're at least something.

She's actually not averse to company now, and wouldn't be surprised by anyone coming; the magic-like lights and runes are definitely visible from a distance]

[[ooc: putting this down before heading to work, will get to replies later tonight o/]]

[Late in the day Klaus can be found around Sector 2, lurking around the library and the computer labs. He doesn't seem entirely out of place with a keyboard in front of him (unless you happen to be someone familiar with him, then the sight might be a bit odd).

But it's the library that he'll be spending the most time today. He pulls out one book at a time, two at a time, and each get returned neatly back to their place. There's no rhyme or reason to what he chooses. Only that none of them appear to be what he's looking for. It's clearly not the first time he's been here, he's seen the selections cycled out a few times now. At the end of his fruitless search there only survivor is - of all things - a book of Russian fairy tales, which he stands in a corner slowly flipping through.]

[ unaware of the conversation data had with captain picard this morning, seven is going about her daily routine as usual. this afternoon's activities include: stopping by the bistro to acquire nutritional supplements (food), making her rounds through the five sectors with her tricorder in attempt to detect any anomalies or variances in usual dome activity, swinging by the library to grab a book or two, and finally stopping by the computer lab to tinker more with a project of hers. such a busybody, as always -- feel free to run into her as she's making her rounds or at any of the afore mentioned locations in sector two. ]

[ private to picard ]

Captain? I need to speak with you, when you are available to do so.

[ His tone is as perfectly calm and even as ever - even before the installation of his emotion chip - though there is effort going into that. Internally, the chip is highly active, making him especially nervous about how this conversation will go - not an emotional state that he has found himself to be fond of. But it is a conversation that must happen. Inside or outside of the dome alike, there are very few individuals who Data respects nearly as much as he does Captain Picard. Though it is unquestionably a factor, it is not duty alone that compels him to seek the Captain's approval. ]

Day 210. We're giving you some new playmates today. [Sigh. Can't be bothered really.]

You know the drill.

[Mail Delivery: From Piper Halliwell to Everyone.]

(OOC: Kiosk requests will be handled by Veridical unless otherwise requested. Mail submissions can be left HERE.)

[It’s very late at night in the prison, if anyone is still awake or out and about. Were anyone to pass through Sector 0 they might find an older gentleman in his Starfleet uniform sitting on a bench in the recreation area. He’s quiet and still, somewhat unassuming. He might even be mistaken for peaceful from far away. But were anyone to come closer, they’d find that he has somewhat of a perplexed look on his face, troubled or thoughtful perhaps. And his gaze is turned up to the top of the dome. Obviously he’s not as peaceful as it might initially seem.]

[Wherever you go, there they are—sneaky and hidden and biding their time, waiting until they find you all two by two, and then closing in. Happy Mistletoe Day!]

(OOC: Read this for all the details.)

[There was a bit of a mail delay with PM's disappearance, but everyone on the team should have gotten a letter this morning. By noon the roof of the new Defense Force headquarters is ready for guests. It isn't exactly decked out, but there is a long table with finger-foods: small sandwiches, fruits, and hors d'oevres as well as sweets like cupcakes and truffles. An arrangement of sodas and bottled waters sits on one end next to an enclosed punch dispenser. Sorry, no spiking the punch, kids. There are also small standing tables around the edges. The only real seating comes in the form of benches along the sides. The point is to get to know the rest of the team, not to sit and eat, so this suits Kitty just fine. They can thank Lacus for the fact that there is food at all and that things have been arranged in such a way to promote circulation.

She waits until it seems like most everyone has drifted in and calls for their attention while perching herself up on the wall itself. No fear of heights here.]

( Kitty's state of the force address )

[Once she's done, she hops down. The mixing can continue for as long as people want provided they still handle their sectors.]

(OOC: See marinanova_df for details on the force. Roster. To join. Everyone on the DF and anyone they brought is welcome. Curious passers by likely won't be tossed out. Try your luck!)


[Private video to Dirk, Jake, and Roxy (who isn't here, but she doesn't know that)]
Thanks for the invitation. [Which she read a little late. Sleepovers at Reid's can do that to a girl.]