MarinaNova Asylum

[Maybe you're at the media store or educational center to play your disc. Maybe you're just out and about somewhere contemplating what you saw or whether to see it. Either way, you're bound to run into someone!]

(OOC: Instant Replay Event Info)

[ elena is neither bright-eyed nor bushy-tailed this morning. on the contrary, she’s shaken, unspeakably confused, and even a bit angry. her brown eyes convey that much, though she’s taken some time to look around and calm down -- but only comparatively. ] Look, I’ve heard the message, and the charges against me or whatever. [ she looks off the side, incredulous -- and frankly in shock. ] So, this is an underwater- [ wow she can’t even get ‘prison’ out. saying it makes it real or her crazy, right? ]

You know, let’s just start with: Hey, I’m Elena, and is this some horrible dream?


action.
[ elena doesn't know where else to go. she woke up on the ground in the middle of a park, knowing she wasn't anywhere she should be even before her crimes were being listed off from some foreign device in her ear. she'd flinched and pulled it off, looking at the communicator in her hands, her heart starting to speed in her chest. she took a look around: at the benches, the trees, the shops, and the impossibly high dome ceiling.

now she's up, walking around the so far empty block in a daze. is this damon? she thinks -- or stefan? where is he? she'd can't yet grasp the reality of the situation, struggling to reconcile it with what she knows: vampires.

she stops at the storefront, and the smell of coffee, drawn like a beacon to some activity -- and where people would go, right? she walks inside, her eyes widening at the bots behind the counter. ]

ooc: catch elena oh-so-politely trying to talk to the bots at bean crushers or run into her on the street!

action;
[ One moment, she has her grip firmly around Bonnie and Caroline both, a tight embrace of nerves and relief and raw emotion, eyes wide in disbelief and voice cracking in a gasp of her friend's name, and the next? The next she's standing in a dome under the sea, with dress changed for an orange jumpsuit that screams nothing short of prison and then the announcement starts and as she listens, all she can do is dig her nails painfully into the flesh of a palm still stained with blood (hers, or Tessa's, she can't really remember), in some attempt at stability.

Everything the voice speaks is true; how many crimes had she become guilty of? In an existence that had long become a single, waking funeral, how many deaths did she cause? But she knew that, she knew and she accepted this as part of her very being and this? This was wrong and it made her angry. Angry, to have a best friend that was dead be ripped from her grip like this again, angry that she had no choice. Angry that this was nothing short of what someone horrible would deserve, too.

She breathes in, collects herself with eyes fluttering shut and chin rising high. A spine painfully straight, she listens to the noises around her and -

- and goes absolutely rigid when she hears much less than she thinks she should. It's like the hearing she has become so starkly attuned to had been pressed to mute and her mind is reeling all over again as she pivots on the back of her heel and walks, walks hell knows where with a distant stare. Stops again, sets her jaw. No, she's faced worse things than this. She's survived worse things, and just like with everything else, she'll survive this; and she'll figure out how the hell to get back to her home. With some semblance of resolve returned, and with a step far more certain than she felt, she begins to walk through the dome. ]


video;
[ she turns the device to video, focuses the screen to herself. her smile is brief, and hesitant, but it's there, worn as a habitual shield she's taught herself to hold. because she isn't sure how she should be responding to this situation. to being in prison. ] Bonnie? Are you here?

- Or, well. Anyone from Mystic Falls? [ loathe as she is to admit it, any one of them could be here in account of whatever crimes this place knew about. she saw bonnie's name in the contacts, and in light of her best friend's recent ... resurrection, it's the first thing she must ask. a strand of hair tucked behind her ear. and there's a set to her jaw that hints at her growing frustration, unease.. ]

So - what do they want us to do, exactly? Spend our time contemplating all the bad things we could've done? [ no way was she elaborating any of her crimes; a glance tossed sideways, as she looks on from a little perch she's found to sit on, in the hideous orange jumpsuit she found herself in. ] Or community service - or what? [ seemed pretty laughable, t b h. she works at her bottom lip, and there's a passing frown along her nose as she pushes out a sigh. ] I guess I just want to know more about this place. Help a girl out?

Thanks - [ another small press of her lips, a single dimple in her cheek that's strained at best, before the feed cuts short. ]

[Piper had the cooking lab set up and ready to go. She was nervous as all heck, but she was as ready to do this as she was ever going to be. She found herself questioning why she was doing this, but no point in running that through her head now.]

Hello, everyone, and welcome to Cooking Class.

[She gave them all a somewhat nervous smile.]

This is a first for me, so I'm looking for a lot of feedback on this one. What are you interested in learning? What are you current skills? Stuff like that. We can do recipe courses, like what you see on a cooking show, or we can teach specific techniques for people who are looking for something more rudimentary.

[She picked up her apron.]

I have some extra aprons in the back, so grab one if you didn't bring your own. Cooking can get pretty messy, even when you know what you're doing.

[She put the apron on, and, while everyone was getting theirs, handed out a sheet of paper with a recipe on it.]

We're going to start with a simple recipe today so I can figure out where everyone is in their skill level.

{OOC: MINGLE IT UP!! I'll make a comment below so people can thread with Piper specifically. I'm also going to set up a feedback thread so characters can leave feedback. There's also a post on Piper's journal for the class where people can leave recipe requests for future classes, as well as questions for future classes about techniques.}

1. Sex

[It's a no-tell motel, dark and cheap and anonymous. Unmade single bed, locked door (it won't open, but you can try it), a black coat on the floor.

Blood.

It's a dark stain on a dark carpet, creeping closer to your feet. If you look for the source--and you will, won't you?--you'll find a blonde woman sprawled across the floor. She's stripped down to lacy black lingerie. More importantly, she's gasping for breath. Blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth and streams from the gashes in her exposed stomach. She looks at you, scared. Her blood-stained lips move, but all that comes out is a rattling cough. Run. That's what she's trying to say.

Will you try?]


2. Birth

[Everything's bright and white. Sterile. It's a hospital, but no one here is hooked up to IVs or being rushed to surgery. No one is screaming or muttering or talking about the last football game at the intake desk. There's no one at all.

Except for Nathan.

The boy is dressed in a prison jumpsuit--orange, of course--and seated on the white tile floor, cross-legged. There's a bird's nest next to him. It's empty, but a single baby bird, young and covered in downy feathers, is cupped in Nathan's hands. It chirps. The teenager looks up at you, confused and a little distressed. What is he supposed to do with this tiny life?]


3. Death

[It doesn't matter where you are. Maybe it's somewhere in the prison; maybe it's someone's home, or maybe it's nowhere at all. All you see is the blood. It's on your hands and your clothes. It soaks the formerly-white bedspread under you (when did a bed get there?) and speckles a business card sitting just out of reach. The card doesn't say much. Dr. Spencer Reid.

Your blood-slicked fingers are clutching pale arms, trying to keep deep cuts (vertical--you cut vertically when you're serious about killing yourself) from draining the teenager on the bed dry. Nathan is prone on the bed. If the knife in one of his still hands is any indication, those cuts are self-inflicted.

Just in case there was some doubt, Nathan addresses you. He's mumbling, but he appears lucid enough. If you can make out his slurred words, you might get the impression that he's telling you to go--to not save his life.

Whether or not you listen is up to you.]


[ooc: Feel free to pick one as a starting point, but know that one scenario might turn into another if things go that way. Also? Warnings for blood, the murder of prostitutes, and themes of suicide. Oh, and your character might get stabbed. No guarantees, just throwing that out there.]

dream option one: mystic falls cemetery.

[ there's a crow. it's the first thing you notice, how it's perched on top of stone and screaming before flapping away, leading your eyes into an old cemetery. the sign reads: "mystic falls cemetery, estd, 1792."

there's something different about this place, whether you've been here or not. a girl you might know with straight dark hair is leaning against one of the tombstones, her diary in her lap. she's writing. what's odd is this cemetery? it's in somebody's backyard. elena's backyard. her house is not three yards behind her. if you walk inside the cemetery grounds, you might catch some names on the headstones.

most of them are gilberts: "john, miranda, grayson." one says "jenna sommers" and another "alaric saltzman." maybe you recognize "stefan salvatore" and "caroline forbes," too. one of them, the one elena's sitting at? it has her name. ]

dream option two: hunting.

[ the bar and grill you're in is small and packed. she's a girl with a warm smile, drinking without a care in the world. she's even throwing her hands up in celebration at the game of pool she's winning. but something's not quite right about this place - there are too many shadows. you might notice the girl's smile isn't quite as warm as it seems. she pulls a man into those shadows. you watch as the veins around her eyes darken and her eyes redden. she doesn't hesitate to lunge for his neck and viciously pierce his skin with her teeth. ]

dream option three: home/potential smutty option.

[ there are flowers on her sheets. red. there's a window seat behind you and a breeze that comes in. a vanity to your left has a mirror. there are pictures stuck in the frame, of elena and her friends, her family. this is elena's room, at home. maybe this is where you start. maybe the shower is running in the next room and you're in there with her, her wet lips insistent against yours. you could be clothed and on the bed. player's choice~. ]

ooc: everyone is welcome to all options! if anyone wants to choose the smut option but fade-to-black, that's totally okay with me! we can discuss. :)

[Private to Defense Force]

[Between the rapidly swelling bruises on his face and the leaves stuck in his hair Phanan has the distinct look of a man who has just gotten into a fist fight with a vampire. Most unusual is his right hand; the plastic casing that houses the circuitry is chiped and the synthetic skin near his wrist is torn as if someone inadvertently bit it, which is exactly what happened. The fingers are twitching and spasming wildly, moving in a way that that is distinctly inhuman as the artificial skin crawls across them sickeningly. He's got some pliers and wire spread out on the table before him and he begins making repairs on it while he speaks. First he pops the casing open the removes the powerpack. Rather than going limp the hand freezes, looking very much like a machine that has had its power cut, which of course it is. Once it's powered off he starts rummaging around in it with the pliers, striping the wire and replacing it. It's all done a little awkwardly since he's using his left hand but he seems to know what he's doing.]

So just as a general warning vampire attacks are happening. So code whatever color we use for that one. Purple, maybe? Code purple? We should have more codes. Anyway as far as avoidance maneuvers go I recommend climbing trees. [Which explains the leaves in his hair. He fumbles a little awkwardly since he's using his left hand here and the video switches so that now it is...]

[Private to Chuck]

Want to come stroke my brow and tell me how brave and heroic I?

( This portion exclusively in Dexter's head )

[ video ]

[ When he activates the feed, Dexter has managed a small, tight-lipped smile. Pleasant. Friendly. He's good at this. He can do it. ]

There seem to be an awful lot of broadcasts asking what people recommend we do with ourselves here. I have to admit, it's something I've been wondering about, myself. I've never been much for picking up hobbies, but you know what they say about idle hands.

[ And mine have been idle for far too long. I can feel it getting impatient. Restless. ]

So, that brings me to my question. What's a blood spatter analyst do with himself at the bottom of the sea? Doesn't exactly seem as if there's much demand for my professional expertise.

[ it's hard to get up; it's such a consistent feeling to elena that by now it's no news. every day is like this: she opens her eyes, remembers what and who and where she is, and gets out of bed.

this morning is different. she can sense it the moment after her eyes open, after she stares at the ceiling for those few blinks to ready herself. she doesn't think too much of it, simply pulls in a breath and mentally shakes herself, pulls the covers off and moves to sit. that's when she sees her hand - not her hand.

her breath shallows and panic overcomes her. when she gathers herself to do the logical thing - to run to the bathroom mirror and look into it - she finally recognizes the face staring back at her.

but she's in her room, wearing the same clothes. her unfamiliar hands touch and grasp the belly of her shirt. (this isn't her body.) anger and upset fills her. this has to be some kind of new joke or mishap - that's when she rushes to her bedside to pick up her communicator and listen to the morning announcement.

of course.

then she contacts martha, startling only slightly at the sound of her - martha's voice - connecting the line. she nearly chooses video, but starts off with voice instead. she doesn't want to startle the other woman if she is just waking up. ]

Martha? It's - it's Elena. I think, uhm. The wardens are conducting another experiment. I'm in your body.

[Video]
[There's a pause before he speaks because he knows it's not going to be his voice and that's going to be weird again.] Hi. [Yep. It's weird.]

I was wondering if anyone recognizes me?

...Am I invisible? [Sam would recognize himself as previous inmate, Angel, except there's no reflection when he looks into mirrors. And voices are distorted when you hear them inside your own head.]

[Action]
[It won't take long before he realizes the hunger he feels isn't going to be sated with a salad. He can go one day without blood, right? It's not like he hasn't craved it before—demon flavored in that case, but still blood. He just needs to stay away from people. Easier said than done though. He needs to at least go put a class is cancelled sign on the room where they meet for Paranormal Studies which means a lot of walking across the dome and smelling everything.]

[It looks like Kitty on the video screen, but the actions are very out of character since she is currently phasing her hand through everything she can reach; a plate, a book, the tarantula cage on the desk. She tries to phase through her own head and ends up smacking herself in the face. The smirk that follows is one that should be very recognizable to anyone who knows Ton Phanan.]

Hey, does this mean I get to be in charge of the Defense Force? I've always loved the idea of minions. My first order is that you should all were silly hats.

[It was the heaviness Kitty noticed first before her eyes were even open. At least waking up in Ton Phanan's body is a pretty good distraction against the pain she normally feels when she wakes up to find Reid went out to sleep on the couch again or even that thread of panic she tries to deny where she fears maybe he disappeared again instead. But this morning is all about figuring out what's going on and damage control. She starts by listening to the vague daypost.]

[Video | Private to Ton]
Stop touching my boobs. [The voice sounds and feels very wrong to her. She even clears her throat, but it doesn't change anything.]

[Voice | Private to Reid]
Hey. We have a situation. [She keeps her voice low since he's likely in the next room. She really wishes these things would text suddenly.]

[And a little later...]

[Voice | Open to everyone]
You've probably already noticed something strange going on. I want to get a head count here. Who is affected? Who isn't? Anyone in danger with this? Let me know and we can get the force working on it.

Oh, and this isn't Ton.

[Action | Open]
[It takes awhile before she's ready to test the new body out elsewhere but she isn't going to stay cooped up all day either. There's bound to be some chaos and she needs to do what she can...without her powers. And why are his wrists too large for her claws?]

( Nathan is out walking. Again. (Cut for mentions of murder and suicide and stuff.) )


[ooc: Run into a serial killer in the making?]

[Right, well. Not the first time he's found himself in an unfamiliar place. It's also not the first time he's found himself stuck in a glass prison surrounded by water. Unfortunately, said surrounding water doesn't feel familiar to him at all and his bearings are all jumbled and mixed up and his mind is still reeling from that message he'd woken up with.

Deep breaths, Percy. You've been in far worse.]

Hey, fellow crooks and criminals. I should totally be used to this by now. I mean, I am. You could probably tell by the way I'm not freaking out or anything.

[It's true, he's actually pretty darn composed. Almost like he does this for a living.

Gods, he doesn't want to do this for a living.]

So... prison! [Claps his hands together as he very obviously searches for something to say.] As much as I'd love, like seriously love to spend the rest of my life stuck in a giant fishbowl with the rest of you, I'm kind of on a tight schedule. Places to be, people to see...

[Goddesses to kill, a world to save. The usual in the life of Percy Jackson.]

I'd really appreciate it if someone could just point me to the nearest exit sign and I'll take it from there, thanks.

[And though he keeps his tone light, there's a weary light to his eyes, a tense set in his jaw as if he's ready to spring into action at a moment's notice now.]

[Okay, Veronica, let's think about this.

You've woken up in a prison jumpsuit, with a gawky headset saying you've been convicted of numerous crimes. Somebody has gone through a lot of trouble and money to prank you. Considering I'm right outside a sex shop, I'd say it was Dick, but he doesn't have the intelligence or the commitment. One of his friends?

It could be anyone. Face it, you've made a lot of enemies, and most of them are extremely wealthy and stopped maturing in high school. I didn't think anyone had this much imagination, though. More to the point, I don't think I've been drugged. No headache, no dry mouth, no nausea. Maybe I've just been unconscious long enough for all the common side effects to pass, but that seems a little too convenient. Are there drugs with no side effects?

I really should have studied pharmaceuticals instead of psychology in undergrad. Damn.

So recap: prison jumpsuit, no sign of drugs, no idea who has both the resources and the imagination to pull a stunt like this. You got nothing, Veronica.

Time to see what you can find out.]


[ action ]
[Her course of action decided, Veronica sticks the headset in the waistband of her pants — it's strange and she'd rather not wear it unless she absolutely has to — and heads out to explore her surroundings. There has to be some kind of answer somewhere.]

Hello, everyone!

[Behold, a wild Neil appears! Looking vaguely bemused, but all in all cheerful.]

It’s been ages since I had to introduce myself like this-- I’m out of practice. My name is Neil. I got here a few days ago, with my friend Todd. We came here from a place called the City, which was a little like this-- most of the people living there came from different worlds, or at least a lot of us did.

[He pauses, all too aware that this sounds a little nuts, but hey. It would've sounded crazier if they'd ended up in a proper self-contained universe, right?]

And things like yesterday-- with all those little furry things-- would happen every couple of days, too. Or other kinds of... Well, we called them curses, though I don't think you have anything exactly like it. But, I guess, we're used to strange things.

[And he smiles brightly.]

Anyway. I was speaking to the-- to one of the Wardens, yesterday morning, and she suggested I ought to get involved in some activities here.

[Because Neil wants his stuff back. His books, how is he supposed to get by without the few ones he packed?]

So I thought I'd introduce myself, and ask for some suggestions. Where should I start?

[ action ]

It's been a full week since Helen realized Jean-Luc was gone, a full seven days since Ashley's birthday. At times, it's felt as though much more time has passed; at others, it feels like only yesterday and her heart breaks all over again. She's been keeping to herself more than usual. Even after she returned to work at the clinic and with the language classes, she was still having a difficult time wrapping her head around everything.

And then someone had mentioned the Memorial Gardens. It had seemed like such a simple thing, but now Helen isn't so certain it's as simple as she thought. Perhaps this is what she's needed.

Most of Day 266 can find her choosing flowers, specifically certain colored roses. These aren't to plant, more for show. For her. The flowers she chooses to plant in the garden are simple, tulips, daffodils, easy things that are very pretty and possibly easy enough to care for should she choose to return every so often. With three bulbs in hand and several roses, she takes to the earth. Once each of the bulbs is set into its spot, she places the roses over the spots where she has just planted new life. Three white roses for each of her special people, three yellow, one orange for Ashley, one pink for James, and one red for Jean-Luc. One of each color remains in her possession, as a reminder to herself of the people she's loved and lost.

After a few minutes of simply sitting there, one of those scattered showers does appear. It isn't much rain, but it's enough that she takes advantage of it. Holding the roses in her hands, she brings them to her nose to smell, allowing the sound of the rain falling to mask her tears as she finally truly weeps for three people: Ashley, her daughter, who was taken from her much too soon; James, her best friend and former lover, who had always challenged her to be the best she could be; and Jean-Luc, her lost love, whom she misses now more than she'd ever thought she could again.

[ video ]

[ later, once she's back at her apartment and a little more dry, she decides to address the network. she might not be dripping wet anymore, but she still bears the signs of having just been playing in the rain. what's noticeable this time is that the old glint of determination and confidence is back in her eyes and her voice is strong. you guys all missed the old helen. ]

I seem to have run across one of those scattered showers we were projected to have. This seems as good a time as any to remind everyone that the clinic is here for your use. I have also recently begun an Earth language studies course in conjunction with the Academy here. If anyone is interested, I am most certainly willing to offer what I know. In fact, today is one of the days I will be teaching, so please stop by the classroom if you're interested.

[ ooc: she can be encountered in action at any point in her endeavor, even while she's sitting in the rain or for the language class, or with responses to her network address. ]

[ here's a semi-smiling face you haven't seen on the network for awhile. ]

I kind of feel I need a change. Is there anyone who can give me a haircut?


OOC: this is the haircut the mun has in mind.

I would advise against interacting with the Polygeminus grex that have infiltrated the prison population. They are non-sentient lifeforms from a relatively uninhabited planet in the Beta Quadrant. On their homeworld, their numbers are controlled by a number of natural predatory species they are the primary food source for, but without their being prey, their numbers will expand. Polygeminus grex reproduces asexually; they are born pregnant and can bear an average litter of ten every twelve hours. If they are allowed to persist with uncontrolled breeding patterns, then we will likely have a population well into the thousands by the end of the day — millions by the end of the week.

Seeing as the wardens do not appear to be taking the proper measures needed to control the Polygeminus rex population, risking punishment in an effort to do so ourselves is preferable to not doing anything at all.

( ooc | slightly backdated to earlier in the dayweek )

Even though their last few encounters had been awkward, Martha still expected to see Sam at the library. In fact, today she brought a cup of coffee for him and a Nylabone for Salty. If Sam happened to follow her advice and bring the dog. She didn't see him at their normal table, but that didn't bother her. She set the coffee and the bone down in front of his normal chair, moved a few of the cooing fluffballs that were starting to make themselves known (she'd have to pick one up to study back at the clinic later), and pulled out her notes. Today she was looking at pathology.