MarinaNova Asylum

The festival continues. The dome's "sun" begins to set and the the sky is painted in gradually darkening shades until all is dark beyond the glowing of the lanterns and sparkling of the colored lights on the rides and games.

The speakers high above on the floating island begin to play soft ambient music and the dark dome flickers to life once more as projections of landscapes light the sky. They fade in and out every few minutes with images of cityscapes, deserts, seasides, mountain ranges in shades of futuristic, ancient, post-apocalyptic, foreign, and outer space. It may seem like a random assortment at first, but then the scene shifts again and just might take your breath away as you recognize what you're seeing. No people. No animals. But the landmarks are all there. It's a place you grew up or lived or worked or fought for or died at, and then it's gone again, fading into someone else's memory.

After an hour or so the scene shows another sunset and the sky goes dark aside from the sparkling of a starscape. New lanterns are lit leading a path to the beach where there's a large white open-style tent with a dance floor. Flames light the fire pits and there are colors projected upon the water so it glimmers in different hues. The music takes on more variety and life, perfectly suitable to dancing.

Happy Anniversary, Marina Nova!

The bots have been busy cleaning up the dome and setting up decorations for this momentous occasion, and by now there isn't a nook or cranny left un-pimped! Bright blue MarinaNova flags wave happily in the artificial breeze together with the colorful ribbons that have been wrapped around poles. The streets are illuminated by strings of lights and paper lanterns and each sector gate has been lovingly decorated with fragrant flower garlands.

Of course, that is far from all! There wouldn't be much of a festival without entertainment and your loving wardens have made absolutely sure that there's something for everyone!

( Let the celebrations begin! )

Enjoy!

( locked to stefan salvatore )

[ action ; open to all ]

[ Aside from contacting Stefan there's no rush yet to seek out any of the others.

Why chase them when they have nowhere to run?

Considering he has a good number of the exact same pieces from the brand new exhibit sitting in a storage locker somewhere in Virginia (so many things, nowhere to put them) Klaus decides to skip the museum. Another time, instead he can be found exploring the rest of Sector 5.

Early on in the day he'll be strolling through the memorial gardens and the graveyard. He moves more freely without the ankle bracelet, a demeanor less forced than the one he projected the previous day. No open wound or orange jumpsuit. Every so often he pauses before a gravestone, a plaque, or right in front of the prayer facility. It's almost like he's approachable.

Sometime later (but maybe still too early for most people to be drinking) he makes his way to the blood shack where he sits at the bar with his bourban - something he could have done anywhere else, but Rebekah had piqued his curiosity. He hadn't missed the transmission on the network: American Vampire Leagues and proper assimilation. Mystic Grill might as well be called the same thing as this place for all the undead crawling around in it on any given night, but for everything that goes on in that town and its climbing murder rates the majority of the population still remains blissfully ignorant. After a thousand years of keeping his secrets Klaus wouldn't have it any other way. ]

( ooc: Feel free to start a thread either at the gardens or the bar! And take a glance at his permissions. Thanks! )

[ Klaus moves through Sector 2 with carefully feigned purpose, his jaw clenched so hard that his teeth might break. The irony of finding himself tossed to the bottom of the ocean? Currently lost on him. The communications device his so-called captors were so generous to leave with him is turned on, he's sorted through the maps and whatever else he can find to regain his bearings. Receiving but not transmitting, no need to draw any more attention to himself yet.

As it stands, he's just slightly worse for wear than when he first arrived a little while ago.

There's a dark red stain on the left sleeve of his jumpsuit, when his fangs wouldn't appear to do the job he'd found a metal fixture sharp enough for it. Just a test, and the result is a jagged puncture wound the size of a quarter on his forearm still oozing long past the point it should have healed on its own. He can't get the stink of his own blood out of the air.

The jumpsuit needs to be ditched, leaving Sector 4 as his destination. After that -

There's that jaw muscle twitching again. He keeps walking. ]