MarinaNova Asylum

[Coffee Stop]

[Mutated genes make for slow aging, but it does strike its course with a few laugh lines and the threat of silver in his hair. Nothing dramatic, and honestly he'd take that over a receding hairline any day, so he's really had no reason to complain. There's this slow misery that settled for a while here however, from about when he realized he's most certainly outlived aunt May, that's given him a strong sense of futility. That and that MJ and Harry were somewhere in the ether too, lost to him. He wondered about them often but there wasn't anything he could do to connect with them, despite all efforts. So for the last five years in particular he's tried to start saying goodbye to it. To them. Like he said goodbye to the suit not long before that.

People didn't need Spider-Man here. They took care of themselves, they rose up to do it and there was no need to hide his face when the influxes stopped. When the risks of overlapping his home timeline stopped being risks, when he was older and grew closer to a lot of people with similarities that made him no longer the freak. He was Spider-Man, and now he's just Peter Parker. And he's okay with that. The biting sarcasm, dry wit, it melded with his real persona and simmered down at around the same time he stepped up to be a mentor, a teacher and a tutor.

The days were definitely more low key now and that was... a challenge, to start. But he's filled his time with studying and in turn, the teaching. A curriculum of which he's updating on his laptop, a cup of coffee in arm's reach. Dressed a little better these days, he's rocking his old glasses less for need and more for the image. The "I'm totally put together" false image.]

[Voice;]

I was thinking of putting together a lecture tomorrow for anyone who's interested in reviewing some sweet, sweet intros into Human Genetics. Or Microbiology. Or both, for twice the fun. [Dry; he's not expecting anyone to show, in all honesty, but if he's going to brush up on topics he might as well have a purpose.] Tutoring gets shoved back a day, but if that's gravely concerning we can negotiate something if you really want to impair my social life that bad.

[A pause, then a hiss as his train of thought completely derails.] Wade, did you not fix the sink? I asked you yesterday.

Over the last twenty years there have been good times and there have been bad times. This is not one of the good times. Things were quite heady for a while in the early days, what with the thrill of exploring a new relationship with Ianto and Spike, and then of overthrowing the wardens and finding their real bodies again – and getting rid of the damn sex bands once and for all. But they still couldn't escape, and that meant he was potentially here literally forever, with no end ever in sight. Nothing new to see, no new people, nothing changing ever. Not even Ianto, since Spike turned him (which, obviously, is a good thing, but still an increasingly stagnant one).

Is it any wonder his periods of rebellion from the confines of that relationship – as one of the few things he can actually change here – are getting more and more frequent? This latest break is the strongest and longest yet, and it's got to the point where he and Ianto aren't even speaking to each other. Thank goodness there are at least still some people who'll put up with him!

Open

He's let his routine slide somewhat over the years. What's the point in keeping fit and alert when a) it's all virtual and b) there's no hope of ever getting out of here? It's not like he really gets out of shape anyway. So today you're less likely to find him swimming and patrolling than in a coffee shop or a bar drinking away the hours. Or perhaps in the spa, enjoying the temporary comfort of a hot tub? Your chances of finding him aggressively cheerful and flirty are about even with those of finding him morose and depressed. They're both his ways of coping.

Physically, there are a couple more grey hairs, a couple more laugh lines (because he still laughs, even if it's more dryly than before), but otherwise he hasn't changed. He still wears the same outfit, that's never going to change.

For Kirk

Things aren't so bad when he has Kirk to wake up next to. Any warm body is better than none, and Kirk's is a darned sight better than most, even twenty years on.

Kirk's still asleep, face hidden against his shoulder, so he can't immediately see that the Kirk he's woken up with is twenty years younger than the one he went to bed with. He smiles as he brushes affectionate lips over the sandy hair. "Morning, gorgeous."

(( OOC: EVENT INFO)

[ when the video comes into focus zed is frowning at the camera, her brows furrowed slightly. she's felt off since she's arrived. her senses were off... disconnected. she's determined though, to figure out what's happening, to connect.

she doesn't like the idea of making this video. the idea of doing something so public makes her uncomfortable. what if someone from her father's cult sees her? she doesn't know if she trusts people or this place enough to put herself out there. it's a risk but what does she have to loose? if this is a prison, what could they do to her? ]

Hi... I'm Zed. [ she has a slight accent. ] I just got here. [ she pauses. it feels like such an obvious and stupid introduction. ] Can't say I'm exactly a fan of all this. I guess, I just wanted to say hello. And John? Chas? If you're here - let me know?

[ there is another pause. her expression softens slightly. the determination is still there but she looks tired. almost resigned. zed isn't the type to give up easily. she always keeps going, keeps running, keeps doing what needs to be done. but this, this might be the tipping point. ]

[ Video ]

Hello everyone. My name is James Tiberius Kirk - but just feel free to call me Jim. I'm going to be your new self-defense teacher at the Academy. In two days I will be holding the first of my classes aimed at beginners. That is, anyone who wants to learn the basics of self-defense. Anyone of any level is encouraged to stop by, but just know this particular class won't be challenging for those of you with a lot more experience.

If you're looking for a sparring partner, I'm more than happy to arrange private sessions.

The first session for those with slightly more experience - Intermediate, you could say - will be on Day 414, and the Expert class will be on Day 416. I would like to keep those classes a bit smaller, so if you're interested let me know.

All classes will be from 10-11AM.

Kirk, out.

[ Action ]

<sub>[ With his little PSA given, it's time to go about his usual routine. It would look bad if the instructor for something like self-defense wasn't in shape, right? Not that he was out of it - and could you even get out of shape in a digital world? They could feel things like pain, sweat, and pleasure, so best not to court the possibility.

Which means he's taken to the beach for the morning, running along the sand, or practicing a type of shadow-boxing. He had better be at peak condition for his students. He wouldn't want to disappoint, especially if they were giving up an hour of their time to learn from him. Plus, Pike's ghost would be forever ashamed of him and he couldn't live with that.

After the workout, though, he'll probably be found sitting at the Daffodil Dive working on the lesson plan - but that doesn't mean he wouldn't welcome the distraction. ]</sub>

[VIDEO]

Hey, everyone! Just a reminder that cheerleading practice is today! We're looking for more people to join the squad, so I hope to see you guys there, okay?

=====

[ACTION]

[Kitty was over at the athletic complex in the outdoor fields, gathering things they might need, and dressed in the squad uniform. She was hoping Kanji would get here, as she was likely going to ask him to co-captain with her now that Euphie was gone, and she was also hoping they'd just get more people to show up in general...]

[Dancing/Athletic Complex]
[Kitty didn't go ungifted on Day 407. There was a pair of worn, blue ballet shoes waiting for her when she woke up. She hadn't seen them for at least seven years, but she knew they were hers—every scuff was felt familiar like she'd been delivered a shard of the past. It took one day before she tried them on—snug, but not too tight to wear. Her feet had almost stopped growing at that age. It took until today for her to find her way to a quiet little corner in the athletic complex away from the punching bags and weights and exercise equipment. It's a large building designed to serve many purposes and one room with a bar at just the right height and large mirrors and a smooth floor was the one she'd passed by many times without ever using until today.

It might be that you would have passed by it too except for the music playing while she stretches and starts to dance. She couldn't find any in the prison that was exactly something she'd danced to before, but this one was similar to the feel of the Nutcracker and as long as she was bringing back memories she might as well go all the way to the time a Jewish girl danced the lead in a Christmas recital.

You're out of luck if you were hoping for a tutu!]

[Wildcard]
[You'll also find her walking around the prison—sometimes airwalking. Yes, that's walking on the air. Or walking through things because walking around things is for chumps. She'll hit up places for food and check in on the HQ. You can even make a private call to her here if you want!]

[action | closed to Kitty]

[As it happens, waking up three years older than you were when you went to sleep is mildly disorienting. Waking up in bed next to someone who wasn't present in any of those three years compounds the effect. Chekov--newly twenty-four and, as far as he can remember, fresh from yet another near-death experience--sits up with a start. This is definitely not his room at Yorktown Starbase. This is...

MarinaNova. He's in bed with Kitty. He has been here for one-hundred twelve days.

Chekov lowers his head to his hands and groans. There are two different yesterdays in his mind, both equally vivid and real, and it's way too early to deal with that.]


[action | open]

[Chekov, three years older than he was yesterday and considerably more dazed than usual, does a circuit of the dome. Everything has a not-quite-rightness to it that he can't put his finger on and he feels oddly out of place. He isn't, of course. He was here yesterday, and he remembers that yesterday like it was... yesterday, which it was. But he also remembers a yesterday where he was a universe away and waiting for the Enterprise to be rebuilt. In that universe, he was on year three of a five-year mission.

He's looking for Kirk, specifically. It would be easiest to call him up, but Chekov would much rather talk in person.]

Well this certainly had been a day of physical exhaustion and sprinting. It started off early in the morning (given the Doctor never slept more than a couple hours at a time, if he even did), in which he tried leaving his room only to have the door open part way.

Donna's insult of 'skinny streak of nothing' has certainly come in handy, allowing him to squeeze through the doors and continue down the hall. However, other automatic doors opened even less, making it increasingly hard for the Doctor to make his way around. There was even a few times of pulling doors open enough to allow him to pass, or if someone was already walking, he'd yell for them to wait as he dashed through as if running for his life in fears he'll eventually be trapped in a corridor at some point.

And here he was sitting on the floor huffing and puffing and missing a shoe and possibly a button to his jacket with doors shut behind him. "Bugger of a door." He muttered, giving it a glare.

Where was a sonic screwdriver when you needed one?!

[You might run into Kitty out and about today as more things go sideways—maybe literally—but for now have a video!]

Something strange is happening today, and I'm having trouble nailing down a theme.

So far I've noticed a weirder-than-usual morning announcement from our toaster overlord.

My closet was full of pantsuits and only pantsuits. [And that's why she's wearing this out-of-character plum number. You might also see a hint of a blue band. It's been red for awhile so this is new.]

[Video pans down.] I got this [watermelon shark] when I ordered waffles and bacon.

There have been some technical malfunctions. [On Ton's biomechanics, but since he's sensitive about it she doesn't elaborate.]

So, speak up, what's your damage? Le̬͉̭͇͇͓t̪̠̗͍'̷̳̠̙̖̟͙s̨ ̘̰͔̻̟̀f̗̦̠̠̮i̴̘̲̮̭g̴̼͙̣̩͔ur͜e̹͎̫̪ ̞̼̤̪͡th́i̹͇̥̘̞s̡ ̤̻͇ͅo͇ut̬̮̰͕.̼͎̭͚͎̥

(Event Info)

[Sector 4: home to a movie theatre, art center, bike store, and even a porn shop! Who doesn't pass through this priceless sector regularly? Especially if you happen to live in Clocktower Estates or you just can't get enough of the poutine served at the Canadian restaurant in the Little Earth district. This sector is also home to the Daffodil Dive which is easily the bar with the most colorful history in the prison. But the only blood you'll find there now is blood pudding pie! Maybe. If Chuck makes those kinds of things and hasn't cut herself or anyone else. Not that she would. What were we talking about again...?

Sector 4 is also where all the best clothing is found. The wardens are always rotating the stock and while sun dresses, leather jackets, jeans, and kimonos are always easy to come by you also find the occasional treasure. If you're not into clothes you can always pick up a freshly arranged bouquet of flowers or you could get that three wolves moon tattoo the parlor is specializing in today! So many reasons to hang out in sector 4, what's yours?]

(( OOC: Happy Halloween - sort of! EVENT INFO ))

[Wally found himself browsing through the costume selections at the stores despite whatever misgivings he had about what the Wardens have planned for tomorrow. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared just in case it's not something diabolical. At some point during his search for the perfect costume, he stumbled across this gem and just had to try it on. While there's some noticeable differences between the costume and his best friend's superhero uniform back home, there's a few obvious similarities as well.

Wanting to share his discovery with the one person in the dome who would truly appreciate the humor in it, he activates the video function on his communicator but forgets to use the private setting in his excitement so the whole dome gets to witness him wearing this ridiculous thing.]

Hey, Megs. What do you think?

[Smiling, he places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest a bit in an attempt to imitate the classic superhero pose. Man, if only the others were here to see this.]

The shorts are a little uncomfortable but I think I got the legs to pull it off. [He glances down and everyone gets a good look at the legs in question. He really hadn't expected the shorts of the costume to be so...short.] I bet Rob wouldn't be feeling so whelmed right now.

It's pretty obvious the wardens are up to something or want us to think they are. They've been dropping hints about tomorrow for the last few morning broadcasts. The things Veridical said today are pretty much on target for that.

Gather round, kids. Time for a history lesson since I've been here for most of it.

Back on Day 100 we were still back in Marina Asylum with different wardens and surroundings. They threw a masquerade ball. I picked out a simple red dress and spent the rest of the day thinking I was a goddess and a crazy one at that. [Named Glory.]

On Day 200 we had a summer festival thing. Games, rides, food stands, a dance, the works. There was a projection of scenes from home. Everyone's home I think. [She doesn't mention the ferris wheel because it still comes with too many feelings when it comes to Reid. She really hopes there's no ferris wheel this time.]

Day 300 was more of a harvest festival. Same kind of thing as Day 200 but more fall themed. They did the projections again and there was a dance on the beach. [There was another ferris wheel that day and by then she and Reid had broken up. Which means it's been more than 100 days already. Sometimes it feels like years. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. Letting go and moving on are both their own kinds of journeys.]

Tomorrow is Day 400. I'm guessing there's a dance. From the look of the costumes in stock and the decorations that have started going up I think we're looking at a Halloween theme. Might pick up past things or be completely different. It feels like we had a couple of Halloweens back when I first arrived.

So...that's what I know for what it's worth. You can always call the Defense Force if something comes up. Dispatch will get someone to you. Hopefully, the worst of it is stepping on someone's toes. Might even be fun. [She might even have a date?]

[If you're out and about you might run into Kitty pretty much anywhere, but definitely surveying the costumes in the shops.]

(OOC: Links are NOT IC.)

[ Have you ever been treated to heavy breathing on the end of a phone call? Well, that's the sound you're hearing now, except there's a video to go with it, which is mostly occupied by Kirk's sweat-streaked, dirt smudged, scratched up face. He looks more put upon than hurt, and from the looks of the background he's somewhere green and up high. He's tucked tight against what appears to be a tree trunk, running a hand through his hair and flashing his best charming grin under the circumstances. ]

So, probably not the smartest decision ever in my life, but I've found myself up at tree and in need of some assistance. If anyone has suggestions on how to make it out of Sector 6 with...

_{[ He paused and looked down, moving his lips as his eyes flicked back and forth purposefully. ]}

Let's say around four very unhappy raptors. Any and all suggestions are welcome.

_{[ Hopefully everyone got this without static, but who knows, right? He's hoping for the best. Seems to usually work form. Usually. ]}

[Chekov wakes up on Day 397 in a room that isn't his and with his arm draped over Kitty, who isn't usually in a bed with him. Usually no one's in bed with him. Usually he doesn't even bother sleeping in a bed. It's a disorienting way to regain consciousness for a number of reasons.

But he's quick to remember yesterday. Specifically the part of yesterday that involved Kitty asking him (with notecards--it was a strange day) to come over. She had seemed sad, but communication issues prevented him from learning why. Why hadn't really mattered once she'd curled up next to him.

He snuggles closer to her even though it would be wisest to get up. On one hand, he'd determined that giving her space was the best thing to do. On the other hand, they had ended up in bed together--fully clothed, but in bed nonetheless--and that had been her decision, so he can tell himself that Kitty doesn't want that much space after all.]

[After a very brief chat with one of the wardens, Ryou has found himself more confused than he was to begin with. So he puts effort into figuring this thing out. Effort is hard...

Once he does so, he proceeds, speaking in his usual manner which is slow, soft. It was like his default manner of speaking was that of someone very tired. The spaced out look on his face probably doesn't help, either.]

Ah... I'm confused...

What does "They are not aware you've left" mean in regards to people back home? Maybe it was an insult.

[An insult, or maybe a joke he's not getting.]

So I can prepare for the worst...

audio;
[While he's not worse for wear, Zero can't be bothered with a video right now. He'd much rather keep his eyes closed. If he sounds tired, it's because he is.]

. . .Is it really only day 397?

[He slept right through the morning announcement. Despite clearly remembering just the day before, it also feels like much longer than a day has passed. More like twenty years, with all the memories that that much time can contain.]

closed action to house-mates;
[At some point Zero makes his way to the kitchen to make the strongest cup of coffee he can. And to seek out painkillers if possible, since his head is killing him. If a house of vampires would even need them around? Feel free to find him amid this.

. . .Granted, at some point he'll be back in his bed, bundled up in blankets.]



[OOC: Zero has been canon updated! And as mentioned, by a whole 20 years. Making him 39y/o, now. :') ]

[If you are in Sector 4 near the gardening plots, you might have heard the sound of bees buzzing along without a care near their hive, but it wouldn't last. There would be a shout of surprise and then another that was a curse of pain, and footsteps stumbling along. Look in the right direction and you'd see a young man with a mess of long hair flinging his arms around as he fought off the bees he'd unintentionally angered by waking up right next to their hive and knocking into it when he woke up, confused and disoriented, sending several of its inhabitants into a tizzy.]

Damned little demons!

[He's even more confused as to why the stings of the bees hurt--or why he can't simply use his speed to outrun them--but his main priority will be getting away from them and then trying to get some answers. But in his hurry he maybe tramples over some of the nearby gardening plots and doesn't see the people who might be nearby while he's trying to shake the enraged insects off his trail and out of his hair.

He barely notices the device on his head before he grabs it and swings it at them, like a weapon that he doesn't have. Public Video turns on just in time to see him trip over his own two feet while whipping his hair out of his face to see the enemy. The device drops to the ground and he scrambles to his feet, body tense, slit pupils contracted and teeth pulled into a near snarl. It might almost look like he's been in a real fight.]

How many of you are there?!