MarinaNova Asylum

[Rion's just finished up one of his last appointments for detox. there's still headaches and some headfogginess, but a lot of the feverishness and aches have gone away. so hurrah, progress. but Rion can't say he's exactly feeling good about the whole thing. not that detoxing is bad—he's glad to be cleansing himself as best he can, but that isn't helping his many other underlying issues.

even with many of the drugs out of his system, his footfall still feels heavy, resonating a hollowness inside himself with every step.

he opens the door to his house, and drags his feet inside. he pauses, lifting his head. he left the lights off when he left, but they're on.

cautious, Rion proceeds, thankfully lifted from his funk with the distraction of paranoia.]

Hello?

[the feed flickers on and Painwheel's awkwardly rubbing at her bicep, looking away from the camera for a moment as she's momentarily seized by anxiety. it's a little bit of a touchy subject that she's attempting to breach, and it shows.

she does lift her head properly before too long, making proper eye contact with whoever's viewing the feed.]

I've been doing some thinking.

[she pauses and lifts her dry, chapped fingertips to touch the rough leather of her mask.]

About my mask.

[a dead, black fingernail snags a stitch, catching and pausing.]

I've‐been afraid this whole time, and I didn't know why. But I think I understand now. I think I might take it off after all.

We're all in prison, which means we're all filthy, vile criminals. So I'm curious, everyone.

What did you do? What is it that made the wardens believe you deserve to be locked away in an inverted aquarium for the rest of your natural life? Please note that if you're just gonna say "I didn't do anything" or "They made it all up", I'm not interested in hearing it. You're surrounded by other criminals, no one gives a damn. Either answer or don't, it's up to you, but don't respond with bullshit prevarication.

Since it'd be hells of rude to ask without providing an answer of my own, here's what I'm in for: ( Cut for length and Homestuck spoilers. )

Well? I showed you mine, now show me yours.

[It looks like someone's been busy adjusting to the dome--yes, adjusting, not fretting or complaining in the slightest. As a matter of fact, Joe looks pleased as punch, settled in at a window-side table at the Bakery; a notebook and pens are sitting in front of him, a camcorder beside them, and a cup of coffee and small plate of baklava within easy reach. He beams at the camera.]

I must say, I am quite impressed! This is by far the most unique and phenomenal prison facilities I've ever come across--perhaps even one of the most unique cities, at that! Our reasons for being here are rather unpleasant business, of course--but that aside, Veridical and Conscienti, you are truly astounding hosts.

[Yes, he's just going to gloss riiiiiiight over the whole "arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment" thing. That's not nearly as important as how interesting this place is. And yes, unlike some newcomers, he's lurked for a bit on the network too, not just scrambled around in a blind frantic panic.]

Now, then! I'm given to understand that this facility is currently undergoing some sort of technical difficulties. There's no way to tell if this will simply be a lovely little vacation, then, or a permanent relocation. Be that as it may, I'd like to make the best of my time here for the moment: my name is Dr. Joseph Morbius, and it is a positive pleasure to meet you all. Such a fascinating facility can't help but house fascinating residents, and I would be delighted to learn more about each and every one of you.

Would anybody be so kind as to tell me a little about themselves? Surely there's an intriguing life story that unfolded before your arrival in MarinaNova--and your time here must be an adventure in and of itself!


((OOC: Have an original character, built within the Unknown Armies tabletop system. His "thing" is learning all about people and events--he's all set for story time, and would be happy to all but interview anyone who's willing to talk to him. Feel free to do action too, if you'd prefer.))

[Static. Interference. Silence.

If you are awake at all tonight and tap into your communicator, then it is very likely for you to experience these three things.

If you are awake at all tonight and have ventured into the darkness, then please use caution, because lurking and always watching... is him. Even indoors there he'll be in the blink of an eye. It's him, he's here, a blank face perhaps at your bedside or just along your window pane.

And then after a high pitched squeal of static and distorted screams--]

found you

((OOC: Please keep this list in mind if you choose to interact with The Operator at all. Thank you... and tread carefully.))

G-guys?

[ why yes, that is a bright orange (no jumpsuit necessary!) M&M on your communicator screen, and looking particularly sickly too, as he's not sure this is really what he signed up for on the filming contract. ]

L-look, I know I said I'd do eight more gigs for this new 'prison break' series of commercials, but I don't really think that's the best idea. [ nervous laughter ] I mean, I'm...an M&M and everyone loves M&Ms and I hear they don't really serve very good food in prison so....I don't think it's safe for me to be...here. In prison.

[ ehehe....he.....okay, this really isn't funny anymore. ]

I'll just be....waiting. Over here. By the...uh...noodle stand. You can pick me up any time!

[ and indeed, there will be a foot-tall bright orange M&M, should you choose to walk past the noodle stand. no eating :( ]

[Calliope hadn't expected to ever wake up again--but here she is. Not on Prospit, but in a new and strange place.]

[It calls itself a prison, but Calliope isn't so sure she can fully agree.]

[Still, she isn't ready to toss the "game" out the window, so no video, no announcing her name. But there are other ways to play.]

[Calliope's voice is actually very androgynous and sort of gritty, but the lilt and enthusiasm and tones do lean it somewhat toward feminine.]

Hello, lovelies!

What a surprising, marvelous twist this is! I'm not even certain as to what I should do first. Hmm. Well, for starters, will anyone recommend their favorite Earth cuisine? Don't be shy!

[She really doesn't want to ask, but she knows she has to.]

... "brother"...?

I've begun a detox treatment at the hospital with the permission of the wardens here. With the detox, the withdrawal shouldn't hurt so much and make me so sick. Once I get over the withdrawal, I'm over the addiction... That's what they said.

...I'm grateful, but...I'm also so nervous. I don't know why. I did escape from a hospital when I was first created—but it feels like that isn't it. Like it's more than that. Deeper, somewhere I can't see inside myself. Maybe I just don't trust that I can get better. Or that they can make me better.

I don't like the machines—I don't like it when they administer the treatment...

[he idly holds his neck, dark blue eyes becoming distant; he looks to be pensive, as if in a memory, but the recollection isn't there despite how he tries.]

[he seems to come back from that a little bit, more attentive to his broadcast.] But... I'm already starting to feel better, so maybe I should just bear through it.

[waking up feeling sick to your stomach stinks and Cyril never wants to experience it again. It doesn't help that the stupid screen in front of his face is flashing a message that doesn't make a lick of sense either. A life sentence for the shit he's done? that is unfair!! So have a very pale-faced man in horrible, blinding orange.]

So. I left the stove on back in my friend's apartment. Hope the place doesn't catch on fire because that would suck. Oh, and kill a lot of people. [p a u s e]

More importantly, this is the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen. [yeah that's right, this communicator is ugly] I'm supposed to fucking wear this? Why? So I can talk to people? If I wanted to talk to someone then I'd use a telephone. Cause y'know, you don't have to wear a telephone on your god damn face --

[one long moment please as Cyril accidentally turns it off. He's from the 1920s okay HE DOESN'T GET IT] ...Why the fuck aren't there instructions for this crap.

[Cain is coming back from that beach party, too drunk and wandering Sector 3 in search of Painwheel. He knows he needs to catch back up with her, but doesn't want to use his communicator. So, logic dictates the only sensible option is to yell her name]

PAAAAAAINWHEEEEL. I know you live here... Somewhere... [he's staggering as he takes another deep breath to call for her down the residential street]

[he continues to do this for the next several minutes]

[In the week that he's been here, Birdman has figured out what Food Allergies are the hard way, namely because he seems to have every possible food allergy in existence. This was never a problem that came up back home where raw nutrients were just supplied without them having to think about it. But in this place, everything was a crapshoot. Having to actually sit down and sift through what was and wasn't safe to eat was exhausting. And painful.]

[But he thinks he's got the hang of it now.]

[Some of the grocery stores here apparently have options for people like that? He had no idea that was even something widespread enough among humans to warrant special treatment.]
[That's one more notch against humans for him, them and their bodies (and thus the human-derived body he inhabited) even having the fucking capacity to get that sick from food.]

[Anyway, he apparently seems to have tracked down something designated "safe." He's got some nondescript plastic bag sitting nearby.]

Hey, Cain? Are you out there?
[Soft voice.]
I heard about the food thing.
Where are you? Is it alright if I come over?

[Cain is sitting down in the middle of sector 0, just drinking some water and neglecting a vegetable bun in his lap. His communicator is off his head and next to him, so he might not be very responsive at first if you aren't speaking Japanese. In fact, he's looking a little wary of the thing altogether.]

[ Touma visited the pet cafe today on a whim. Why? There are several reasons, all having to do with memories surrounding the pet cafe in the old dome. The setup might not be entirely the same, but there's an odd feeling of nostalgia watching the animals play, even if he has no desire to actually take any home.

It is then that he observes a particular rambunctious animal bouncing around. At first, it's funny. Then, things get dangerous when it decides that Touma, kneeling the way he is, would make an excellent springboard to plant its FEET in the boy's FACE (Just.. pretend that's a Pokemon or something and not a goat, since those do not exist in the cafe!) ]

Gck—! [ Touma crashes back onto the ground, sending any other nearby pets scattering in alarm. He just sort of lays there, red welts on his face as he stares up at the ceiling and sighs. ] Fukou da...

---

[ When he is not getting his face kicked in by cute little animals, Touma can be found sitting at Raw in Sector 3, bandages on his nose, staring down into an empty ramen bowl.

Thanks to his sense of smell being off, it didn't even taste all that satisfying. Another sigh.

Can something go his way, for once? ]

[ 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?

[ VIDEO, MID-DAY — LOCKED FROM HELIX ]

[ Hello, Marina! Have an excited puppy Aidan on your screens, coming with a very important announcement! ]

Hey y'all!

I'm, uh... I'm sure some of you know Helix. He's turnin' 17 today, and me an' Dean are throwin' him a party at th' beach tonight. It's goin' to be real casual, bring your own beverage kind o' thing — we're gonna get some fires goin' and have a barbeque so I think it'll be real nice! So just come on over to Sector 1 whenever you feel like it an' bring whatever you wanna eat and drink.

[And with a bright smile, he's about to turn off the feed when a thought happens:]

Oh! And it'd be great if someone could bring some dip for Dean! He's jonesin' real bad. [Grin — and transmission end.]


[ MINGLE, EVENING ONWARDS — OPEN TO ALL ]

[ Nothing like a beach party to round off the day! Camp has been set up close to one of the beach huts, with beach towels strewn on the sand and a couple of oil drum barbeques heating up as we speak. Feel free to mingle amongst yourselves, cook up a meal, have a beer (if you brought it!) or say hello to the birthday boy!

Oh, and the water is juuust right. There's always the option of a dip, skinny or otherwise. ]

(OOC: Video and voice responses go HERE! Feel free to mingle amongst yourselves! )

( Private message to Ciaphas Cain )

[Into Sector 5 comes Birdman with a certain rambunctious little brother named Cain in tow. Cain seems to be in a great deal of pain and is having an extremely difficult time walking, and Birdman has one of his arms looped around his shoulders and is assisting him in hobbling along towards the hospital - though it's not really helping, what with Birdman being over 6' tall and Cain being a little baby shrimp and it all just winds up being really awkward and difficult to maneuver.]

[The secret is he'd been flying/teleporting them both towards Sector 5 a few minutes before, but now that he was actually in it, there'd be no more of that. These humans didn't need to know about the whole psychic powers thing anyway. That was none of their business.]


[ooc note: Anybody who wants to hop in and give Birdman a hand is welcome. Be warned, Birdman is responsible for Cain's injuries and is going to lie through his teeth about it, so heads up for creepy dude being a creep. ;( ]

[Cain is out and about today, despite still needing rest from the day before. He used his powers so, so much that feels hung over today. He's scuffed up and his eye is bandaged, so he's not in the best condition anyone has seen him in. You may also notice a thin silver band over his mess of scars on his neck.]

[ooc: Cain has to complete three punishments. He will be available for video the entire time, but you may bother him during or after either action]

( Catch Cain sweeping the beach )
( Or find him making statue poses )
( Or would you like to play a game? )

Warning: Birdman thread (abuse/ disturbing violence)

[someone sure is in the hospital, maybe for the day. his head is wrapped up tight in gauze, but he otherwise looks okay. his index and middle finger on his right hand are also splinted, for now.]

...For anyone who had to see what happened yesterday: I'm okay—no one needed to see that broadcast. Sorry to those of you who had to see it, and...thanks to those of you who did whatever you did to bring me to the hospital... I'm sorry to have troubled you.

[the video feed cuts—
( private to Cain; impossible to hack )

((OOC: This call is made at the end of this thread -- warnings for violence and some blood!))

I need help. [ The boy is still trying to catch his breath, but he sounds more angry than panicked. (He is a good actor, sometimes.) ] This guy got beat up... he looks pretty bad. I don't wanna move him. I'm not a doctor.

[ Pant pant... oh, people should probably know where he is, huh? ] I'm in Sector —damn, which one is this?— ...sector 3. Baths. Someone bring... I dunno, stretcher, medic, healer whatever, just do it fast!

I'll wait outside. Can't miss me. [ Not with his spiky hair and disheveled clothes. He's been tossed around a bit, but he's fine. Especially compared to Rion. He probably shouldn't just leave him unattended, but he doesn't know first aid of this caliber, he has no supplies, and he knows better than to move someone who's had their head nearly smashed in.

So Touma will just stand outside the bathhouse, hands on his knees, and flag down anyone who passes by whether or not they look like they could help, with a "Hey! Over here!" ]