MarinaNova Asylum

We have mail here and pizza. Isn't it about time we combine the two? I'm thinking more about pizza delivery than writing on pizzas or with pizzas here. Someone should get on that.

[The not!pirate has spoken.]

[So. Frogs.]

[It may be less of a draw for a lot of people than the vibrator thing was, but PM is definitely one eager attendee of today's exhibit!]

[The carapacian lady can be found either cooing over the live specimens, carefully reading the displays of the ones that are not so much alive, or perusing the gift shop for amphibian- and frog-related offerings.]

[It's becoming more and more obvious that this shithole has it out for her.]

[Here she is, minding her own business and (mostly) not even doing anything questionable! It's not like there's any rules against looking for info on building doomsday devices or trying to collect materials for them, and no one could be mad at her for going to the arcade, getting food, or anything else. Yet she keeps getting stuck inside, and it's really getting annoying.]

[Just her shitty luck.]

(ooc: feel free to have your character trapped with vriska at any time and basically anywhere that would make sense why would you inflict that on them)

[ So there's a whole lot of people Dirk knows showing up. And he's just kind of herding them all back to his and Jane's place like it ain't a thing. It's actually a pretty shitty meeting place, a little one-bedroom apartment with no TV or anything. But there's snacks on the table and orange soda in the fridge and a bright yellow dildo decorated with cartoon animals on display on one shelf.

Yeah. Anyway. ]

((OOC: Pseudo-mingle post for anyone Dirk has dragged home to his apartment in sector two's Streamline Complexes, which so far is alpha!Dave, Roxy, Jake, and also alpha!Rose and Calliope if they want. Or anyone else who wants to stop by for whatever reason except for Caliborn. MINGLE. I'm turning off comment notifs, but I'll have a thread for anyone who wants to tag Dirk specifically. ))

[PM is seated on the desk at the post office, one leg crossed over the other. She's wearing her mail uniform, and also a matching navy blue eyepatch over one eye, and her expression calm and pleasant.]

Greetings, everyone! I'm afraid I don't have enough welcome baskets for everyone, and it is possible you may only be here for a limited time anyway, so please enjoy your visit while you can. I can try to answer your questions, too!

My name is PM: the Prospitian Monarch. Umm, there's another reason to make this broadcast. It's part of a punishment for something I did the other day.

[She clears her throat and reads off a little notecard.]

On day 179, Jack Noir, also known as the Sovereign Slayer, kidnapped one of my dearest friends in all of paradox space. The Slayer then privately broadcasted himself trying to assault and torture my friend.

In response, I hunted him down and cut his arm off.

So! I must apologize. Not to Jack, because he's a horrible little man and had that coming, but for allowing my temper to get the better of me. And also for entertaining him and his sick little games for so long. I've learned my lesson, and I will never do that again.

I'm sorry for the trouble.

[... hi, 4th wallers!]

[ Hope you like redheads, Marina, because this man has plenty of that going for him. Plenty of a lot of things, which include but are not limited to: his stature, impressive musculature, booming voice, and complete and total... confusion? One must wonder how one white gaming t-shirt can possibly contain all this.

He's holding the device in his huge hands, turning it this way and that, holding it up to his eye for closer inpection... ]

Hmmm. Is it on? This does not feel like one of those "smart phones" I have seen before.

Hey, boy! Can you hear me through this? [ There had better be an answer because he can't sense his Master, and it is quite disconcerting. ]



[[ OOC: Rider (Iskander) here from Fate/Zero! He's sitting in the middle of the road, which some might recognize as the space in front of the Pa-Ching Arcade in Sector 3. He'll be here until he figures out this newfangled contraption, finds his Master, or gets distracted by all the shiny toys inside the building behind him. Feel free to catch him there or wandering around! ]

Wow. I guess I can't take my eyes off of you losers at all! So many things I've missed. But there's mostly one thing I'm concerned about, and the wardens aren't exactly being helpful right now.

Who tried to steal my kill.

(Not that I don't think I already know the answer!)

Just so no one else misunderstands, I'm going to kill Jack Noir. Me. And I've got no intention of letting anyone else do it.

And for the record, the wardens can try to make me do their stupid punishment all they want, but I'm not going to. It's not like I even did anything wrong!

[Today, PM bears very little of her usual fare, but instead, she and her volunteers have loaded up on Welcome Baskets for this day's new arrivals!]

[...How do they find you? It's probably better not to ask.]

[The mail lady herself is a fair and lovely... hard-shelled alien... sporting a dapper uniform and a matching navy blue eyepatch.]

[Feel free to chat with her or any of her volunteers who make the delivery!]

--
[Info about the postal service and mail submissions for Day 181 are here!]

[WV figured out how to make calls private JUST FOR YOU, Jack Noir. Don’t you feel special? You should. Because right now there’s a very angry little carapacian face up in your communicator, and it’s not going away.]

Sovereign Slayer!

I have been discouraged from contacting you on multiple occasions—and fine advice that is, as no good can come of such an interaction—however, today I break this promise. I can no longer sit idly by, silent, as you terrorize those whom I care about! Fiend! Monster!

Even with that stolen weapon of yours, you are no more than a despicable coward, and a—a menace to society!

[he pauses to catch his breath, his whole face feeling very warm. Yeah, that’s…. pretty much all that he called to say.]

[WHAT U GONNA DO]

[the video shows Jane, dressed in a tshirt, jeans, and a flannel shirt, since she's discovered the clothing store. She's glad to get rid of the orange jumpsuit. But her fashion isn't the thing on display today. She's perched on a table, papers strewn around, and a notebook in her lap]

Okay, so I got my notebook. It's the one I had at home, which brings up a few questions, but that's not what this is for, not completely. Reid, you said you wanted to look at some of my research? Oh! Touma Hashiba. When would be a good time to meet to discuss your notes?

[she pauses for a moment, then hurries on, as if something just occurred to her]

Oh! Question. Anyone have tips on living with others of the opposite gender? I've managed to land myself in a frat house, with all the connotations thereof. Back home I only had Darcy, and she was a very good roommate.

[ AR's been spending too much time at the library. It's where he's broadcasting from right now, in fact. There's a serious expression on his face that seeps into his voice as he talks to the network, but there is also an undeniable glaze over his eyes as he speaks. ]

I would like input on a matter I have been thinking about.

I understand why this institution is a prison now. Our actions are pebbles that were never thrown into a lake, the non-existing wake that we create has no effect on anything else but this isolated place, our own lives, and the lives of a select few around us.

To us, any sort of ripple our existence and actions in our place of origin are now nonexistent. We have no policies to change, no energy to give back the the universe, we're cogs taken out of a universe - a metaphorical machine ...

... Aren't the actions that we perform here entirely insignificant and useless except to this tiny, isolated place? What is the point of any sort of "reformation" if we cannot return and fulfill our duties in our place of origin, however insignificant those individual duties may turn out to be?

[ This house arrest thing is actually starting to get on Dirk's nerves. Sure, it's qualitatively not that different from how he'd lived prior to arriving in Marina. Just with fewer robots to tinker with. And fewer friends to talk to. And with a sinister plot to unravel that he can't even begin to get at while he's locked up in this little apartment.

So... okay, it's actually pretty different.

At least the food's better.

And he's always got the headset to harass people with. ]

Scheduling a display on fucking vibrators while I'm locked up inside? It's like you know just how to break a guy's heart, wardens.

[ Private to PM ]

Were you serious about that offer to come by? I don't have much around here to entertain guests with, and if you're busy I don't want to inconvenience you, but if you did want to I'm not gonna say no.

[ Because he's just not going to admit that it would actually be nice to see someone in person. He... actually hasn't talked to anyone face to face since he's arrived. ]

[ Welcome to Sector 5, home of the hospital, non-denominational prayer facility, memorial gardens, graveyard and, more importantly, the museum.

Today, the wardens are treating you to a special exhibit titled "The History of Self-Stimulation Through Mechanical Seismic Activity" where you can partake in such wonderful displays such as "Hand Cranked — A Guide to Historical Devices" (complete with vintage ads such as Aids That Every Woman Appreciates and Vibration is Life ) and "Bullets and Probes — Vibrations from a Universal Perspective" that feature devices from many different worlds.

Feel free to gawk at these colorful and sometimes frightening displays, peruse the gift shop (of course there's a gift shop!) or maybe just wander the rest of the Sector! ]

(ooc: Thread can take place at any time of the day, anywhere in Sector 5! Remember the rain and needless to say, those links are NSFW to varying degrees! )

[Given that PM has been stuck with her video feed on all day, she doesn't so much start broadcasting as she suddenly sits up straighter and clears her throat. Despite having gauze over her gouged eye, and a bandage around her wrist, she tries to be chipper. The adorable mail uniform probably does help with that.]

Attention, Marina As- er, Marina Nova Asylum! I would like to announce the re-opening of the Post Office!

We safely and privately deliver all your parcels and letters throughout the prison, offer a pen pal service, and do our part to promote community, literacy, democracy, civilization- er, and other such inspiring ideals! And as you may have heard from Princess Euphemia, we will also begin delivering welcome baskets to newcomers. [And she will use her Queen's Ring to hunt them down. this is what demi-god powers were made for right]

Please feel free to stop into the post office at any time during our hours. Or to say hello to one of our friendly volunteers! Originally, I wished to have a party for the occasion, but due to my injury, I've decided to move it up to Day 179.

[She smiles a bit, and then, since she has pretty much no way to end the feed, she waves her uninjured hand dismissively. You can stop watching her now.]

[Feel free to reply, or to tag her OR any of the volunteers in/around the post office for action! She will not be on the route today, but will instead be taking it easy at the front desk.]

--
[Click here for pen pal signups. Mail submissions for Day 177 go here!]

[After the announcement, her communicator clicks on. PM, outfitted with a new silver restraining collar, is lying in the bed she shares with WV and AR (who is hogging the blankets and more than a third of the bed thanks to being skewed diagonally). For the unfamiliar, the three of them are of a hard-shelled alien race--PM is pure sparkly white, and the other two a shiny beetle black.]

[As she starts to wake up, the situation seems so nonsensical that she doesn’t register it as anything more than an odd dream. There’s a span of confused, puzzled squinting with her remaining eye as she reads the summary of her punishment, and finds that no, she can’t turn her feed off. The very moment that the situation fully dawns on her is clear--a sudden widening of her eye, tension returning to her body. She pushes out of bed and strides out, her pajama gown billowing a bit behind her, and she ignores any half-asleep protests from her "dear friends." It takes all of her self-control to gently close the bedroom door.]

[She makes her way to the balcony of their Sector 2 home, which is at or near the top of the apartment complex, given the spectacular view. Only once she’s outside does she let herself explode.]

Excuse me, WHAT?!

[Her whole body is trembling with incredulous rage. Even if the rules had said something about being punished for injury, she didn't actually expect that to apply the one time when she was more victim than mutual combatant. It just seemed too bizarre to be real. PM grips the glowing gold ring that hangs around her neck as she takes a deep, calming breath.]

[Her voice is strong and has an angry edge, but she is otherwise in control.] Good morning. This is PM. It seems that the wardens are forcing me to broadcast myself today.

And this is why.

[They don’t want her to keep secrets? Fine. She’ll oblige. The alien queen brings her injured wrist up and points to her gauze-covered eye socket.]

Yesterday, a man named Jack Noir, known also as the Sovereign Slayer, ambushed me while I was decorating and preparing the new post office. He stabbed me through my wrist to pin me to the floor, and then gouged out my eye.

This punishment is for letting myself get hurt.

... Be careful, everyone.

[That offered, she stalks back inside to go about her day. And you all get to come with her!!]

---
((OOC: PM will be 100% trollable all day! About anything!! Everything she does is stalkable!!! ( Click through for more deets. )

[guess who's finally had the gal enough to show her face via video-feed!

maybe it's just the hideous orange jumpsuit that makes her feel like being embarrassed about all of her various disfigurations aren't even worth being embarrassed about any more. she's mutilated it fairly well until she finds her proper ...well, dress—she's torn off the sleeves completely so as to not be caused discomfort by the large nails lodged into her bony shoulders, and she's done something with the pants to turn them into a skirt with high splits up the hip (to allow for similar comfort, as she has nails in her thighs and hips). probably some hand-done seamstress magic.

though she hasn't been here long, she's already clearly a lot more confidant in her own presentation; there isn't so much shame and fear, because here she is, just sitting in front of the feed, staring straight into the camera. plenty of people have taught her that she shouldn't fear herself, since arriving.

but she looks a little sad.]

...Some people didn't make it into this dome from the last one, did they?

[since Painwheel's never shown the network her face, her voice will at least be recognizable to those who have spoken to her—low and strained from injury.]

It's so unlucky...

—Ah—[she lifts her head a little, blinking.]

Um, has anyone had any luck relocating their clothing—?

I really can't deal with this.

[she plucks the frayed hem of the fabric at her shoulders, then ends the public feed with a little "thank you."]

( [private to Cain] )

[At first, one might assume PM sounds perfectly calm. But if the listener has a good ear, they may pick up that it is that razor-thin sort of calm that comes from being in a lot of pain, and possibly shock.]

Greetings. This is PM. We have a post office again. [A pause.] It is in Sector 2, but it will not be ready for business until tomorrow.

[There's another pause.] Does anyone know where the hospital is located?

--
[OOC: Jack Noir caught her unprepared and was completely gross in her general direction. Violence and eye gore warning for the linked thread.]

[Hello MarinaNova. So for those who have been here, this face might be familiar. For those who haven't, it will now be gracing their camera as he focuses on its lens for a long moment -- almost like he had something he wanted to say before turning the camera on, except he couldn't figure out how to word it.

In the stretch of silence, his ear twitches twice and his little black nose wrinkles with something akin to disgust. His teeth are a little too sharp to be completely canine in nature.]

Same shit, different cage.

[After a few minutes of just sitting there, staring and waiting, his nose twitches again, but this time his lips curl backward in a growl and his ears flatten before the feed is cut.]

[ooc: he is en route to Sector 2 for anyone who wants to meet up with him in person.]

[ The voice on the other end is very young. ]

Very very efficient. The instant I actually murdered someone, I've found myself here. I can only applaud the urgency of your system! It's satisfying to see the strict hand of justice reach between universes and pluck little criminals out of their places with such a cool indifference. I can't say I'm happy to be here-- I hoped to one day join your kind, and enforce the justice I love so much as a legislacerator. But I also can't say I don't deserve it.

However, something I do deserve is a trial. Your efficiency has no formality to it! That is terrible. You've completely skipped the best part.

[ She laughs, loud and sharp and long. Her tone is as playful as before, even more so. ]

Why, you should have relished taking me down in court. The guilty will crack under an even pressure and this is true of all criminals. No one is exempt! You should have slowly peeled away all layers of my defence and elicited the confession from my reluctant mouth. Your professionalism would inspire such a hate in me, a deep loathing and resentment that I have never felt before, and you would be unmoved. You might hate me back a little, because I am a criminal-- but nothing more. Such is the tragedy of a courtroom!

But instead of that-- [ her tone hits a low note now, suddenly and quickly ] -- you've just done this.

And that is such a fucking shame.

[ The feed clicks off. ]

[A young teenage girl with long dark hair appears on the network dressed in the compulsory jumpsuit, her face rather well composed for someone who just turned up in a prison on another planet of all places. Maybe she's really not disturbed. Or maybe she's just really good at hiding it. But she's certainly hiding any hint of emotions about it.]

I'm going to go ahead and guess that no one knows a way out of here.

[She pauses, closing her eyes briefly, taking a breath in and releasing it. Her violet eyes reopen.]

My name is Homura Akemi. I'm looking for a Madoka Kaname. If anyone has any information on her presence here or otherwise, please let me know. Your help is most appreciated. [She gives a curt bow.]

[With those few words, the video ends. The less she has to worry about unnecessary, uninformative chatter at the moment, the better.]

((OOC: Going to be slow, it's my final week here.))