MarinaNova Asylum

LETTER RECIPIENTS

• Jane Maxwell: a letter from Aidan Reilly.
  
• Mr. & Mrs. Shitty Wardens: a postcard from Dirk Strider.
  
• Conrad Weller: a postcard from Yuuri Shibuya.
  
• Hikaru: a postcard from Yuuri Shibuya.
  
• Kohran Li: a postcard from Yuuri Shibuya.
  
• Wolfram: a postcard from Yuuri Shibuya.
  
• PM: a postcard from Yuuri Shibuya.
  
• Aidan: a postcard from Yuuri Shibuya.
  
  MASS MAILERS
  
• To everyone: a postcard from Spencer Reid (on behalf of the Investigation Team).

[With the postcards being so prominently displayed, it means that there is even more mail than usual. And a busy mail lady is a happy mail lady!!! At least when that mail lady is a vaguely obsessed carapacian.]

[She and her volunteers can be seen buzzing about the dome, or found in the post office as usual! PM is in varying states of normal or ring-wearing, depending on those.]

[Though she has one very unusual delivery to make, and she stops at the kiosk to present it. With probably no small amount of apologetic looks.]

--
((Info about the postal service and mail submissions for Day 189 and beyond are here!))

[ action | open | noon until three, at the art center ]

[ Art. Okay. Dirk can do that. He's never actually worked with paint before, but how hard can it be?

He's sat in front of a canvas for much of the afternoon, working. At various points throughout the day, his three lovely assistants can also be found posing for him. ]

[ action | closed | 3:30, the dojo at the athletic center ]

[ After taking the time to head home and change out of his paint-stained clothes, Dirk arrives at the dojo right on time to await Sougo. He just hopes it's not too awkward after the whole standing-him-up thing. ]

[Of the punishments Laura could have received, this one was nothing worth mentioning. She had received far worse punishments for failing a mission or a training simulation in the past.]

I have been found guilty of murder. As punishment, I am to complete orders given by three people to assist them in chores. Those who respond will receive assistance, I have no preference of they should be.

[Not necessarily true, but she does not mind doing chores for strangers at this point in time.]

Hey, everybody!

[ You can't see it, but he's totally waving. :D ]

What's your name?


[ Yep. That's it. Your name, Li wants it. All bazillion of you. ]

[ a sleek white wolf prowls quatro park, peering about the place at the curious plants and statues. some may see her divine markings, while others may see naught more than a large wolf, white as snow.

she pads through the park gracefully and quietly, paws nearly silent as they touch the ground. a few times she pauses to paw at the ground or snap her head up to sniff the air vigorously before moving on. she looks determined, as if she is searching for something -- ears at attention, nose working overtime.

at last, she looks directly into the communicator for a long moment with strangely bright, intelligent eyes --

and promptly goes back to pensively sniffing at a rosebush. ]

[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!]

[ 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?

[So, who else is not checking out that exhibit of sex toys? Because Peter isn't, he's actually somewhere a little nondescript. Some nook of the library, a stack of books on the desk next to him. He's in a long sleeved shirt, though gauze wraps his knuckles and peeks out every so often. The greater extent of his injuries for the moment out of view.

Save a bruise or two, but they're healing quite fast.] So I was thinking, there used to be a pamphlet in the welcome baskets, that gave a little info on the old place. Now that that's nil, I was just wondering if we had any other means of gathering and sharing information.

There's computers, but not everyone uses them. I was thinking more of some sort of distributable news update, kinda like a newspaper? Just gauging interest in the idea. There'd have to be contributions, I'm assuming, but it seems feasible. Even easily delivered, even, to anyone who'd want to subscribe. I'd have to talk to our friendly neighborhood mail-woman, of course.

[He shifts, then reaches for the device to filter private to Rogue;]

Uh, hey. I got that thing I meant to give you. If you're not busy today.

[ Terezi's voice is very serious. ]

Dearest inmates of the underwater prison-resort known as Marina Nova!

It has recently come to my attention that no one has done a formal investigation of the dome. As a legislacerator, this is something that I simply cannot allow to pass. If you think I am suggesting a full blown investigation, you just might be onto something.

In particular I would like to highlight the forbidden sector. The possibilities for what is inside are endless.

[ And now you can hear her grin. ]

It could be some poor child's lusus locked up all alone, a ticking time bomb, a fantastic wonderland made of candy! Who the fuck knows. It is extremely important that we find this extremely important fact out.

I will be leading and directing the investigation. If you would like to join in, show up at sector 0, by the request kiosk. I'm a troll, something different than most of you squishy humans, so I should stick out.

[ ooc: Action thread for investigation (if anyone is interested) is right here! ]

[After nearly two days of patrolling and exploring the Marina, Zatanna had decided she was long overdue for a much-needed break.]

[Her sneakers were cast somewhere off to the side, allowing her toes to wiggle freely in the soft, warm sand. Trying to stiffen her laughter as she guides the small, rubber ball with a single finger in the air, up and down and around in circles. Poor Robin Jr. was captivated by the spectacle, following every unnatural movement. Whenever he thought it came close enough that he could catch it, he would bark once and jump.]

[A flick of her finger, and the ball levitated that much higher.]

[Whimpering, followed by a low crouch. His bright blue eyes never once leaving the object of desire.]

Alright, alright. [Taking pity, she summoned the ball back to her hand. Robin Jr. trotted over, his paws spraying sand everywhere.] Sit!

[He stared up at her, tail wagging, head tilted to one side. Understanding the command, but not obeying it.]

I said, sit, Robin Jr.

[This time, puppy obeyed, and was rewarded when she lightly threw it into the air for him to catch. He did.]

Good boy. [She knelt down to give his fur coat a good rub, making sure to scratch once behind his ears.] You're getting better at this whole listening thing, aren't you?

[A hand extended for the ball, and after a moment, Robin Jr. relinquished it.]

Fetch!

[She threw it again, this time without magic, and smiled as she watched the Siberian Husky puppy trot off once more after it.]

[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. )

Okay. I don't know who's responsible for this.

But whoever it is? Haha. Very funny. Hilarious!

Nothing I've done is even that bad. [...except maybe one thing, but that was still justifiable! And as if she's going to admit to feeling like shit about it openly.] Maybe by bullshit human standards, I guess, but not by my race's!

...Unless this is Terezi's doing somehow? Okaaaaaaaay. Joke's over, Pyrope! Cut the stupid mind tricks or whatever and let's finish this! I've got way more important things to be doing.

[When PM opens her eyes, her view is filled with the bright light of day and the silhouettes of spires, domes, archways, and columns. With a sharp gasp, she shoves herself to her feet, looking around rapidly before she's even finished waking up or adjusting to her surroundings. This is not Prospit.]

[Fortunately, the announcement answers her other questions. Most of them, anyway--she scoops up her paper bag and opens it quickly. Her post office badge and, yes, her ring.]

[She pulls it out and slips it on. There's a brief pause, and she sighs when it doesn't work. She mostly expected that, but still--at least everyone else is on the same playing field for today. Placing the ring back inside, PM clutches the bag tightly in her paw and starts a checklist in her mind. Head toward Sector 0. Meet up with her friends, and get them somewhere safe. Check in on Castell at the pet cafe. And, because her not-murdering-Jack agreement was with Sentience, begin the hunt for a certain archagent.]

[Video | Private to WV and AR]

[She forces a smile, even if she's not exactly in a smiling mood.]

Are you here? Please answer as soon as you can.

--
((OOC: PM is basically going everywhere, so feel free to tag her in the location of your choice!))

[You're in a new prison and free!

Well, free to look around anyway. Maybe you'll pick your pet up from the pet cafe or search the pile for your personal items before someone else gets to them first. You could be inspecting the barrier around sector six. Did you just hear something scratching it from the other side? Maybe you want to find the nearest clothing store and upgrade from prisoner-chic to something a little more you. Maybe you appeared somewhere awkward and could use a hand with that. It could be you're just wandering around, familiarizing yourself with the new space.

Whatever it is, you're welcome to do it here.]