MarinaNova Asylum

[ So that happened. It sure did. It happened so very much and where he'd normally lock himself in the apartment and drink until he can't remember his own name, that's not really a thing he can do today. Confined to sector 3. Rebecca's sector. Pretty much the only person in this entire godforsaken fishbowl he could talk to about this, if he was going to talk about it, which he isn't entirely convinced he will just yet.

Still, here he is, outside her door, raising his hand to knock and then dropping it and then raising it again and- ugh fine okay here we go. Knock knock. ]

[ It says a lot about his current state of mind that two clueless newcomers shake him so fundamentally, but here he is. The festival last night was an attempt on his side, a clumsy and awkward attempt at assimilating, giving up, giving in but at the end of the night he was only left with a bitter taste in his mouth that no amount of whiskey could wash out. He has tried, with and without Rose, with and without soul (tho more so lately) and it all seem to fall to the same conclusion — there's no place for him here.

There's been too much time wasted locked up in his apartment, saturating the walls with smoke and his dead flesh with alcohol. It doesn't do much anymore, doesn't even blunt the edge and so he finds himself outside, purposeless, pointless, aimlessly letting his feet take him wherever they decide. The steps leading up to the library, as it happens. Fitting, considering where he got his soul forced back in, this fortress of scoobitude. Sitting down heavily, he pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, followed by a disc. A present from the wardens some time back. He hasn't watched it yet, but how much worse can it get?

A lot worse, as it happens. Weren't things better back then? Him and Dru and no one else, the world theirs to burn. Slayer killings and blood and revolution. There was nothing they couldn't do and now there's nothing he can do. They never should've gone to Sunnydale. It's all so clear now. ]

Biggest mistake I ever done...

Happy Day 365, Marina Nova!

Hear ye, hear ye! Inmates, prisoners, fellow underwater dwellers! Lend me your ears and hands and actually just bring all of you because we're having a ye olde Renaissance Faire to celebrate a full year in this bubble under the sea!

The dome has of course been decked out appropriately. Flickering torches light the pathways, interspersed with larger bonfires that you can cosy up to with that special someone - or perhaps just a glass of honey mead. Pennant banners hang across the gates and along the buildings, sporting the proud coat of arms of the prison (a lot of purple and octopi, for some reason) and many of the clothing stores offer time-appropriate options for those of you who still knows how to have fun. The kiosk has even been re-imagined into a castle.

Many areas within the dome has activities to partake in and, if you're skilled or lucky or both, prizes to win!

( Let the celebrations begin! Fanfare! )

Enjoy!

( Private to Kitty Pryde (AoA) )

( Private to Spike )

[Pucker up, inmates! It's that day again—your favorite prison holiday! And, of course, the wardens provided lip balm stations for your convenience.

(OOC: Mistletoe Bot INFO)

[ Action/morning/closed to Rebecca ]

[ Although he promised to spend more time in the apartment, he figures Euphie would understand the need to make sure his drunk not!girlfriend got home and into bed safe and sound after gambling the night away on cards and drink. Once there it was easier to spend the night, curled up at her back and senses keen in case she needed something.

Eventually, morning comes. Announcements come. Presents are promised. He wraps an arm loosely around Rebecca's waist, snuffling against her neck. ]

You awake..?

[ Action/noon onwards/open. ]

[ Presents were delivered. Discs were watched and for a bittersweet moment everything was fine - until the last thirty seconds of his recording. The last thirty seconds are unfamiliar, blurry, hard to make any sense of. He needs to make sense of this. If he makes sense of this then he'll know what to do, he'll know that-

Helix wouldn't kill him. Would he?

Looking for privacy, he'll hole himself up in a corner table at one of the restaurants, quickly cooling cup of coffee abandoned next to him. Watch, rewind. Gunshot. Watch, rewind. Blood, pooling. Watch, rewind. Watch, rewind. ]

[Poker night at Kitty's place in sector 4! She has them set up at the kitchen table with cards and poker chips. There's a variety of snacks set up along the counters—pretzels, chips, dips, pizza rolls, meatballs with toothpicks, etc. There's also some pie because Chuck is here! Ice cream in the freezer since Kitty lives here. You'll also find water, sodas, wine, and beer. Stay hydrated!

There's also a living room with comfortable seating for taking breaks or relaxing after the game. If you're going to snoop you might find a Nathan hiding out in his room or peek through a partially opened door to see Kitty's room. It's very utilitarian—no decorations, generally clean though there are stacks of books, tech, and clothes here and there. For anyone who visited other apartments she's had they were a little warmer and included more personal touches. Nothing too exciting to find in the bathroom, you perv!]

(OOC: Invitees tag in mingle style.)

VIDEO // CLOSED TO REBECCA

[ Technically he could just go across the hall and ask but- this seems easier somehow. ]

Hey uhm... Rebecca? You got any concealer I can borrow?


ACTION // OPEN

[ Deciding that makeup will probably draw more attention than the bruise itself, a freshly punched Reid hits the prison streets. He needs coffee and a bagel, so he stops by Bean Crushers, lingering in a corner booth for a while with a stack of books that are due at the library. While in Sector 2 he also takes a moment to stop by the school - he hasn't held classes in forever and he probably won't now that his teacher's aide is missing in action but he can stop by the music room and play piano for a bit. It's been weeks, if not months.

He can, of course, also be encountered on the way between places, sporting a beautiful and fresh shiner. Thanks Leia. ]

[ It's surprisingly early, for him. Vampire habits and all that, this transmission should happen later in the afternoon but it doesn't. He also sounds surprisingly drunk for it being this early in the day — effort was taken to reach this level of inebriety. It's clear in the tone of his voice, the stubborn lack of video, the briefness of the message. ]

Rose is gone. She was a good person even if you wankers didn't appreciate it.

[ And off goes the feed. He'll make his way to the graveyard with as many bottles of whiskey as he can possibly carry. Gotta start early in the day if you want to drink yourself to oblivion. Anyone coming across him can expect to find a fumbling mess of a man and more than one smashed bottle. ]

[ So, this is an unusual morning. Nearly as unusual as finding a dead body in Chance's bed but that's only because he hasn't discovered that he's the dead body yet. Funny how you don't think about things like breathing or heartbeats when your body just take care of all that on its own, most days.

This is not Chance's apartment. This is not his couch or his clothes or anything else that he recognizes so needless to say, his distinctly american voice is a bit on the panicked side when he finally addresses the network. ]

Chance? Chance! What the fuck did you do?

[ He notices that something is amiss before he even wakes up. He's sleeping on something strangely soft. It has too much give, too much silky smoothness and nothing here smells like animals and wood fire. The rest is kind of a blur of realisations - a warm body next to him, no clothes to be seen, bright smooth walls and strange things he can't even think of a name of and oh god he's so hairless and what happened to his ears!?

Scrambling rather ridiculously over the edge of the bed, Aidan makes an incoherent noise of surprise and terror. What the actual hell. ]

[You have a lot of baggage for your stay. Not the kind you stuff free robes and toiletries into. No, the kind of baggage that helps drive the sort of scenarios you experience. Your fears and your hang ups. Or maybe not everything is about you after all and you have a perfectly random, horrific time. Either way, the adventure starts now. Ring the bell for service.]

OOC: Haunted Hotel Info/Plotting

[The Post-Traumatic Stress Group is being held in Trois Park—a particularly relaxing corner of the park has been outfitted with comfortable seats arranged in a circle, with hot soothing drinks and filling comfort snacks right on hand. There are also pillows and weighted blankets. Very soft and slow harp music plucks away from somewhere.]

[After characters are invited to introduce themselves and then to spend 5 minutes doing a focused breathing exercise, there are a variety of activities in store for those attending the group. Everyone is strongly encouraged to share their work.]

Journaling
There are personalized journals with the names of all mandatory attendees on them, but there are unlabeled extras. Inside each one are pages with writing prompts and blanks for free journaling. Prompts include...
— How are you feeling right now? How would you like to feel?
— Do you have nightmares about the event? Are they the same as your memories, or different? Compare any differences and consider why they may be that way.
— Write as much about the traumatic event(s) as you can. Use as much or as little space as you wish.
— Identify what triggers the worst reactions to your trauma. How do you cope? Do you think your coping techniques are healthy or unhealthy? How can you change them for the better?

Art Therapy
There is a list of prompts including the following...
— Draw or paint a scene that gives you peace. Feel free to be as specific or vague as you wish.
— Using the craft supplies, put your feelings into a tangible form and explain the symbolism you've chosen to the group.
— Attempt to express the trauma or a great fear you have because of it. Draw, paint, sculpt, create a diorama.
— Draw or paint a portrait of yourself, emphasizing your good traits.

Partner Discussion
Settle in with your choice of comfort foods/blankets to chat. Everyone is given topics to discuss, including...
— Is it easy or hard to talk about what happened to you? Why?
— Do you blame yourself or feel guilt? Explain why.
— Do you have anyone who you can talk to about it? Help each other identify possible allies in your life or within the group.
— Discuss any topics or situations you usually avoid, and why.

-
((OOC: You're absolutely welcome to come up with your own prompts and ideas, too! These are just meant as a starting point. Jump in and have fun!))

Buongiorno, incarcerati. Oggi è il giorno de [ 338 ] della prima incarnazione. Il tempo previsto per oggi è [ sunny and warm ].

Per questo giorno solo abbiamo un festival di cibo. I carrelli portavivande in [ Sector 0 ] offrirà una varietà di [ pasta and sauces ]. Ti invitiamo a cogliere l'occasione per ampliare i vostri orizzonti gastronomici.

Buona giornata.

[ And like always, we end this message with a jaunty tune! Prego! ]

(OOC: EVENT INFO! The morning message will be untranslated and come across as Italian no matter what, because the Wardens like to stay on theme from time to time. Hopefully the brackets will be enough for your characters to deduce what's happening if they don't speak the language and if not, the alfredo sauce fountain might clue them in.

Kiosk requests will be handled by Conscienti unless otherwise requested! Warden request post is HERE for your convenience! Mail submissions go here! )

Yo! [Peace sign given as Rebecca steadies the feed, looking very lazily pleasant in an oversized t-shirt from the waist up. Truth be told it wasn't even one of hers, and what's from the waist down isn't seen thanks to the cut off of the table's edge. It's very reminiscent of one of her broadcasts a little while back, while poking through Cross's snooty foods. Except today she looks a little less bored and more content, propping her elbows on the table and sighing.]

I was wondering if anyone had any tips for getting out tough stains. [She shakes her hand through her hair, mussing it up and leaving some strands at floofy angles.] Bought a bottle of red home last night and well, things happen right? I was trying to Macgyver a solution with vinegar but I thought I'd ask y'all if you had a better one. I...

[Pause, while she yawns and covers her mouth. A figure enters the frame in the background, shirtless and heading toward the fridge. At first she pays him no mind, but then recognition dawns behind her eyes (to the observant) that she's recording this. Her smile is a slow blooming thing of idle realization that she's been busted. But she plays it off while Aidan sips milk from the carton in the background, looking briefly over her shoulder with a small snort before looking back to the camera's lens.]

I could also use a good recipe for brownies. I have to ask about one of my usual ingredients, but if you know how to make 'em rock my socks off, please lemme know.

[ If you happen to pass by Sector 5 this evening, you might be aware of loud music blasting from the graveyard. Upon further investigation you'll find Spike hanging out among the gravestones with his best friend Jack Daniels and a pack of smokes. An impromptu one man punk party. Feel free to join, should you be inclined. Hang out with the cool kids for a while.

Shame he only has that one record though. When this night is over, anyone within hearing distance of the graveyard would be happy for some sedation. ]

[ Lucy's had time to process some things. Such as the communicator she'd woken up with, pulling it from her ear to see the buttons and read what each did. The message had helped, though the area she was in, as well as the tacky orange prison-like jumpsuit, they were unfamiliar to her. She supposes she can't go wrong in where she had ended up, opening her eyes to find herself within MAHR in Sector 2, laying upon one of the beds.

It certainly wasn't the temple...

And she was alone; no Desmond, no Shaun, and no Rebecca. No one that she knew that she could tell.

Seems suspicious, now that she thinks back on the message. Crimes, hah, what would they know about anything she's ever done?

Slipping the ear piece communicator back on, fitting it comfortably as best as she can over her eye, she hits the button for voice. ]

I hope this is working and that I'm not talking to myself. Joke's on me if I am... Anyway, if this is getting through - great! I think I'm a little lost right now. I know there's a map but it shows me nothing. Hopefully someone, I don't care if it's Veridical or not, but if anyone can help me get out of this furniture store that'd be real great right now.

Thanks.

[ A beat, probably would help if she included a small introduction-- ]

Oh right, name's Lucy.

[ Action ]

[ It's early when he leaves the apartment. By now he notices when something is amiss, like the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach when you look at a body and know that it's dead without even checking. He knows something is wrong but he goes out anyway, wandering the sectors in a haze. Sougo would've done the same. He knows it.

It's hours later when he finally settles down in the garden patch, laid flat on his back on the dirt under a healthy tomato plant. He got this as a sapling when Helix was still around, plucked fruit from it when he moved in with Lacus and Sougo, made pizza with the sauce sometime after Euphie moved in. Is she the only one left from way back then? He thinks maybe. ]

[ Video ]

[ The feed is aimed at the grayness of the dome, view shadowed by the sway of tomato leaves. There's a tenseness in his tone when he speaks. ]

So... I know a lot of you knew of him at least so I figured... [ Sigh. ] Sougo's gone.

[ And with that he ends the feed. ]

[DAYTIME: Walking in a floral wonderland. Not to be confused with an actual wonderland. Completely different event. You could be anywhere and everywhere today and not escape the petals.

DANCE: The sector 2 garden is a little extra pleasant and inviting this evening. Gentle breeze, beautiful flowers, delicious hor d'oeuvres, sparkling punch, and music. And dry. Did we mention it's dry? Not a single flood as far as the eye can see. So, find someone and get out there and dance.]

(OOC: Event INFO. Feel free to have your mingle set up cover both aspects of the day.)

[Carol hasn't been in a place like this in ... ages. She can't even recall. A wedding, ages ago. Long, long before Sophia. Where she settled down, it was bars. Dirty bars, clean bars, fancy bars, dive bars. The winery was for those fancy folk.

She felt a little out of place in the classy establishment, despite dressing up a bit herself, before reminding herself that it didn't even matter. Also, she was here for a good time. She deserved this.

So in she went, and looked around to see if Kitty or Rebecca had arrived yet. (Unfortunately, she did not know what Rebecca looked like.)]