MarinaNova Asylum

The festival continues. The dome's "sun" begins to set and the the sky is painted in gradually darkening shades until all is dark beyond the glowing of the lanterns and sparkling of the colored lights on the rides and games.

The speakers high above on the floating island begin to play soft ambient music and the dark dome flickers to life once more as projections of landscapes light the sky. They fade in and out every few minutes with images of cityscapes, deserts, seasides, mountain ranges in shades of futuristic, ancient, post-apocalyptic, foreign, and outer space. It may seem like a random assortment at first, but then the scene shifts again and just might take your breath away as you recognize what you're seeing. No people. No animals. But the landmarks are all there. It's a place you grew up or lived or worked or fought for or died at, and then it's gone again, fading into someone else's memory.

After an hour or so the scene shows another sunset and the sky goes dark aside from the sparkling of a starscape. New lanterns are lit leading a path to the beach where there's a large white open-style tent with a dance floor. Flames light the fire pits and there are colors projected upon the water so it glimmers in different hues. The music takes on more variety and life, perfectly suitable to dancing.

So, this community service bullshit.

[ a beat - and Agito raises a hand, shoves his fingers through his hair. ]

Any suggestions on how to rack up five hours of that crap? I'm out of ideas.

[ seven of nine is restless to the point of entertaining the idea of offering to repair this facility's mundane assortment of technology and appliances. hardly worth of someone of her skills, but on voyager, there was always something for her to do, some task that needed to be completed. she's a busybody, and idleness does not suit her. nor does participation in extracurricular activities without prompting from others, but in the absence of duty and necessity, she is beginning to understanding their usefulness beyond basic moral upkeep. ]

Penelope Garcia, Dean Winchester -- a word?

► PRIVATE | ENCRYPTED TO LIEUTENANT COMMANDER DATA

Commander, I have a theory about the dome that I wish to share with you and get your opinion on before I take my findings to the Captain. I feel a discussion in person would be more secure than one held over the network.

[ during the morning hours, seven can be found in various parts of sector two for all your action-y needs. ]

[In a small corner of the library, chairs are arranged in a circle. There's a stand against the wall, holding one of those giant post-it note pads. Written on the top note is:

THE IMPORTANCE OF TELLING THE TRUTH]

[ Hello, MarinaNova. Ferris is sitting here, in the bedroom of his apartment in sector 2. The walls are plastered rather solidly with an eclectic mix of posters, photos, and other varied clippings and images he's managed to dig up around the place. At the start of his transmission, he reaches over and pauses his music - The Cars, if you're paying attention and would recognize it. He leans back and engages in a casual, conversational tone. ]

So, let's see, it's... a few weeks, now, that I've been here. I wouldn't exactly say I've resigned myself to my fate or anything like that, but I did start figuring, not particularly long into my stay, that I might as well make the most of it. After all, I'm still here regardless of whether I dwell on it or not. Why miss out on the positive aspects in favor of making myself miserable? I've never been a fan of dwelling, anyway. Waste of time.

In that spirit, I've been exploring, perusing the local diversions - everything you'd expect a guy to do, you know? And you can take my word for it when I say I'm not the sort to leave any stone unturned. I mean - not literally, because I haven't yet found any choice entertainment under stones. If there is any, I'd appreciate someone pointing me in the direction of the right stones.

Now, naturally, I'll continue ever onward in my independent endeavour for diversion, but I figured I may as well pose the question to my fellow inmates; How do you entertain yourself here?

Don't misunderstand; I'm certainly not bored - who would ever allow oneself to meet such a fate, I ask you? [ Restless, sure. But defiantly not bored. ] But I have long ago come to believe that any man who fails to keep an open mind and reach out to others is a man who is only cheating himself. Everyone's got a different idea of fun, after all, and it never hurts to try something new. Well... rarely.

[Look who's in a good mood for a change! For reasons, okay.]

Guys, I finally figured out something incomparably awesome about this place. All the free clothes! I think I might need a few more closets.

[She holds up two dresses to the camera,]

Help a gal out, here: flowers or polka dots? Or both, I guess! I'm gonna need some shoes...

[For anyone who wants to catch up with Garcia at the store, she's roaming through the racks while singing and dancing along to whatever is blaring so loudly through her ear buds that it can be heard quite a few feet away:]

Ooh eee ooh ah ah
Ting tang walla-walla bing bang~

[If you know the song and are wondering why she seems to be singing it awfully fast, that's because it's a techno remix. Of course it is.]

Captain?

[ not picard. janeway. a year and some months change worth of memories came flooding back while she was regenerating, making the ex-drone believe for a split second that she was on a turbolift aboard voyager and not standing in the alcove the wardens had provided her with. she steps off the platform, though in her mind's eye, she's stepping through doors that have just parted-- but then it's gone, giving way to the medical facility her alcove's located in. an empty room with too white walls that contrast against the dark blacks and neon greens of borg technology.

the communicator was activated on accident. she's aware of it being on, and chooses not to turn it off. ] I seem to have experienced... Was I returned and brought back?

[ it feels like she has, yet also like she hasn't. the new sets of updated memories, combined with what she remembers going through on that ghostly-themed day, are somewhat disorienting. she'll need a minute or two to find her bearings before heading out to see to the day's tasks, if there are any. the lack of proper work to be done is beginning to grate, now that commander data's repairs have been completed. ]

Um, hello? I seem to be lost. I don't believe I've been here before. My name is Quatre Raberba Winner. Can anyone help me?

[Duo looked rather concerned, and really seemed confused. He pulled back from the feed for a moment. If someone listened close enough, they might have heard the next statement before he shut off the feed.]

Why am I in Duo's body...? Is that even-

=====

[He was wandering around Sector 0, looking confused and lost. Someone care to help the guy out?]

[MOMO was alone today, and perhaps that was a bad thing with everything going on. However, she was on her way over to the education center to find out if any classes had changed recently, as people seemed to have been disappearing a lot lately. As she came near the building, she saw a figure standing at the door. He didn't seem to be doing much, and MOMO's sensors weren't detecting him properly. At least, they weren't getting a normal reading. She paused, concerned.

He looked familiar from the back. Then, he turned. She gasped.]

Daddy??!!

[She ran towards him, but he didn't even look at her. It was like he wasn't really there. She reached out to touch him, but couldn't. Her hand passed right through him. Shocked and dismayed, she sniffed, holding back tears, and then ran off.]

[There is a rather odd disturbance today. Not that there wasn't before, but still. Michiru is standing on a low building near the kiosk. Only she's not wearing her normal attire. This is a tuxedo and a white mask. Probably most noticeable, the cape with a red lining.

The reason "she" is near the kiosk is because of the wardens]

Don't be seduced by his lies! He's filling you with hate! [And she throws a rose she produces out of nowhere at the kiosk]

[ooc: Tuxedo Mask has come to play and is seeking vengeance on the wardens. Be prepared for cheesy lines and over dramatics fighting evil by the moonlight]

[voice]

I suppose I'd better ask: am I the only one seeing things? People, mostly, out of corner of my eye. People who are -- people I know are long, long dead. [ His voice is choked with emotion. ] All of them, every single one. [ He's quiet a long moment. ]

Is this one of the warden's games? [ Now his voice is rising, strident and angry. ] Is this fun for you, or are you simply so busy rebooting that you can't keep track of who's here and who isn't? Is this a system glitch? [ He's practically shouting now. ] It's not funny!

[ He stops abruptly, for an even longer moment. He mutters something before shutting it off. ] Now it feels like prison.

[ ooc: Anyone wanting to watch the Doctor in his frustration is welcome to an action thread just about anywhere you'd like in the dome. He's seeing lots and lots of dead Timelords, so he might not be the best company. ]

( [voice; closed to Rose] )

[This voice is the same voice Marina-dwellers have heard for months, but there is something different about it. Maybe a little deeper. Definitely more projected. His mannerisms and vocal inflections are suddenly filled with drama.]

It seems this grotesque cosmic joke demanded an encore. Well, here I am, fellow prisoners! Q has returned. I'm sure that makes you all infinitely happier than I am. Not even dressed in a body of my own choosing. I have to wear this thing. [Yuuri's arm indicates his oh, so lacking form.]

However, I shall make due, and while my own glorious abilities are bound at least I'm not so useless as a human this time.

(OOC: Q is taking a page from Castiel's playbook it seems. He'll be using Yuuri's ability to move through water to appear throughout the dome. Walking is so very tedious you see. Feel free to have him appear anywhere there is water. And on a rainy day that's a lot of places.)

[ Data is out and about in the dome today, uniform-clad, examining his surroundings. Which may strike some who know him as a bit odd, since he's already done that quite thoroughly. He's also sticking more to edges, avoiding more crowded zones. He's clearly preferring observation to interaction at the moment.

Luckily for the being currently in control of the android's body, he's easily the individual most adept at accessing all the functions and information in Data's positronic brain.

So it turns out the emotion chip was salvageable after all. How fortunate for his dear brother. ]


[ ooc: Absolutely and totally open to anyone, anywhere! :3 ]

[The camera turns on to see Zatanna...only there's something off. It is her; her face, her form, even her usual wardrobe. Even her hair and eyes are the same. But her skin looks noticeably paler than usual, like she hasn't seen the sun in quite some time.]

What is this? Who dares summon me? I was having fun!

[There is also a higher pitch to her voice. Scratchy. Whiny. Irritating. Borderline insane.]



AND WHERE'S MY TEEKL?!?




((ooc: For most of the day, Zatanna will be possessed by a being known as Klarion The Witch Boy. A literal Lord of Chaos, and evil magic user from her world. Be afraid. Be very afraid.))

[ once upon a time, in a version of voyager's story where captain janeway decided to turn around instead of trying to thunder through borg space, seven of nine became a member of their crew in a very different manner and thus developed into a very different person. gone (temporarily) is the woman robbed of her individuality who struggles with the most basic of human concepts, replaced by the smiling, vibrant person she was in the world of unimatrix zero that she managed to retain upon being disconnected from the collective. except, she isn't smiling right now.

she regards the network feed with an uneasiness that's too open, and a timidness that's not borg-like at all. ]

Hello? My name is Annika, and I don't know how I got here... Or where I got this headset. Captain? My combadge isn't working.

[oh, good morning, Marina, here is Pepper, dressed very nicely for being in an underwater dome with limited designers OR Louboutins available. She's bright eyed, and smiling.]

Good morning. My name is Pepper Potts. I have a proposition for everyone. A book club, since we are stuck here, yet with access to various reading materials.

I have a few ideas for reading selections, but this is for seeing if there is any interest and to organize the first meeting.

[VIDEO]

[The feed's barely on, and Zatanna's rolling her eyes yet again. Three guesses what today's topic is, and the first two don't count:]

Because the fun just never stops around here, I'm on to my fourth and--hopefully--last punishment. Which I want to be over and done with as soon as possible, so this is your heads up: if anybody sees me standing in the market place a little later today, don't talk to me, don't come near me, and whatever you do, don't make me have to move for any reason.

It's nothing personal. I just have to stand still in the marketplace for an hour.

...and I swear, I will hex the first person who makes me have to start the clock all over again.



[ACTION]

[And stand still Zatanna does. Like a statue. In fact, to avoid any accidental falls, she makes sure to position herself leaning slightly against one of the building side walls. Away from the heaviest foot traffic, and to give her legs something of a reprieve. Also, so she didn't look like a complete idiot standing still right in the center of everything.]

[Unfortunately, a side effect of this ingenious plan was that she managed to get a little too comfortable during her period of meditation. Comfortable enough that, by the time the hour mark has passed...she had somehow fallen asleep.]

[Still standing.]

[Until something or somebody rouses her, of course.]

[Garak sits in the Winery in Sector 2, calmly sipping a glass of wine -- not nearly as good as kanar, but his options are limited -- and idly examining his device.

He had listened to the message from his so-called "jailors" with a sense of surreal detachment, and he's not sure if it's because of the peculiar circumstances or the pounding in his head. Or perhaps it's simply his training that detaches him from circumstances so he can deal with them.]

Who is in charge of this place? I'd like to have words with them. They call this a prison? Hah! They should be ashamed of themselves.