MarinaNova Asylum

[Korra doesn't often visit the hot springs, but after everything she's put her body through these past few days -- the raptor attack and the I-need-to-vent-my-feelings-through-bending training sessions -- her muscles could definitely use a good long soak, and her mind could definitely use some peace & quiet. So she takes off the stupid headset thing along with the rest of her clothes and sets them aside. The world can live without her for two hours, right? Of course it can.

Unfortunately, while she's busy soaking away her cares, some overly-industrious bots decide that her clothes need to be washed and take them away, along with her communicator. And of course they don't bother leaving a note. When Korra comes into the changing room, overheated and in a towel that isn't really big enough, she stares at the empty bench where her clothes used to be.]

No.



[ooc: Open for mistletoe bot shenanigans! Please note that since her communicator is gone too, Korra won't be able to understand you unless you're Asami!]

[You won't hear them coming. You won't see their snare. The mistletoe bots are out and they're hunting you, two by two. You can run and you can hide, but eventually you will be caught, and then there's nothing left to do but kiss your way out!]

(OOC: Mingle until your lips are chapped! Information on mistletoe bots event.)

[ Ah, what beautiful morning here in sector 4, the artificial sun, the little noises here and there around the amphitheater, the tall thin man in the bright orange jumpsuit that is sitting crouched next to a stone wall, muttering to himself. He turns the dial on the communicator. ]

What is this? You got the wrong man… I ain’t done half of that… [He taps the little headpiece in that light fashion everyone takes when trying to get something old to work once more.] Are you listening to me?

[ There is another tap for good measure before Facilier tries to reason with the Loa again and yes, that is a bit of a desperation in his usually smooth voice.] We had a deal! And I know that I haven’t really held up my end of the bargain but it was just a minor set back… Small part of a bigger operation..!

[ ooh: Facilier can be found wandering around sector 4, eventually ending up in 0 and 5. ]

[The feed starts, and it's apparent that Inara Serra has no idea that it's turned on. It's caught her in the middle of a string of mandarin - and her tone would very much make it seem as though she is less than happy and not really believing this is happening to her. Her dark hair is a halo of untidy curls and she lifts a hand, brushing one out of her face.

Her gaze is flittering around, and she's muttering loud enough for others to hear over the device.]

Tāmāde hùndàn, Malcolm Reynolds, I'm going to show you uncivilized if I find out you had anything to do with me being here. Dropping me off in the middle of... The very nerve.

[She seems to realize the nice little headset, and her eyebrows draw together. Though once she realizes that it might perhaps be broadcasting, she shifts slightly - and in that few seconds of time, she's regained her composure and looks completely tranquil and at ease. Years of training were not going to go to waste, not even in this place.]


Bàoqiàn, I apologize, I didn't realize I'd managed to turn this on. I'm assuming it's a communication device? [She manages an easy and even charming smile.] I know I've been told that I've... committed crimes, though there must be a mistake. Perhaps someone would be kind enough to tell me which planet I'm on and point me to the nearest city so I can contact my Guild, I would be most appreciative. And I'm positive my Guild would more than reimburse you for any trouble this might cause you.

((OOC: hover over the Chinese to get translations!))

[ Option One ]

First thing in the morning, Jean-Luc stops by the Defense Force headquarters to check in. He makes a habit of this every other day or so, just to see if he's needed in any manner but his usual patrol duties. So he can be found here with a fresh cup of steaming tea. He probably won't remain for long though, so catch him while you can if you need him.


[ Option Two ]

As often as he frequents the library, he should probably set up residence there. A home away from home, sort of thing. But nevertheless, he is at the library again. He's perusing the bookshelves, for the rare novelty of a book from another world that Earth. He frequently finds them in this place, as the prison does pull people in from everywhere. And this is his own personal way to continue his exploration of the Universe. Books, after all, are one of the most obvious founts of knowledge. And we know what people say of idle minds...


[ Closed to Helen Magnus ]

Jean-Luc has packed a dinner for both himself and Helen. He had sent her a message to meet at the stables later in the afternoon. He's in the stables, saddling up two horses, one for himself and one for Helen. A bag settles on the ground at his feet. He's in full riding attire. But yes, he has accepted that this meeting of theirs is an actual date. And he's okay with that.

[Surrounded completely by the best sweets in the dome, and Bart can't even bear to eat a bite. He breaks apart a Cronut with his hands, ready to stuff it in his mouth, but it lingers there in his palms.]

Chloe and Oliver left. [He pauses, clarifying:] Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen, if anyone knew multiple Chloes and Olivers. [Their apartments were empty, their comms weren't connecting... Plus Bart knew they couldn't have been dino chow. They were too strong to die that way.] I just figured, if anyone knew them... a heads-up would probably help.

If you need me for any reason, I'll be here. These things can't eat themselves, you know. [Bart smiles thinly - the weakest he's managed since he's arrived in the dome. He'll be hard to miss at Bean Crushers, since he's decided to camp out there for most of the day. When he's not gorging on food? He's running. Doesn't matter where or how fast - dangit, what good is his speed if he can't get that pent-up anger out somehow?]

[ The weight of a revolver against his hip brings with it a sense of familiarity. Of security, memories of the shooting range with Hotch looking over his shoulder with great disapproval. That was many years ago now and although his aim could be better, he can at least hit what he intends to hit these days. It's a security measure he should've taken a long time ago, but didn't.

Now that he has, it brings authority and confidence to his voice despite being off-camera. Someone's sick of this shit. ]

I hope everyone's had a chance to recover from, uhm. The recent events.

Anyway... I'm Spencer Reid and for those of you that don't know, I'm the temporary leader of the Investigative branch of the Defense Force. We're currently looking into the incident that occurred a few days ago and would be very grateful for any information any of you could give us about what happened. Any little thing could be helpful, so even if you dont think you saw anything special we'd still like to talk to you. Eye witness accounts are good but in lieu of that we'll take any reports on what happened and how you perceived the event.

You can come down to the Defense Force HQ and talk to me or any of the other members of the Investigative Team. If you'd rather do it somewhere private, let me know and I'll arrange a meeting elsewhere.

Thank you.

Oh, and as a general reminder... the Defense Force is here to help you. To protect you, but in order to do so we need to know when something happens. We're only human. We can't stop fellow inmates from harassing you if you don't report it to us first.

[ With that he cuts the feed and settles in by his desk. He'll be reachable there and through the communicator until late afternoon when the Criminology class starts (which I'll totally post tomorrow) ]

[ elena's going to make this short. she opens a feed late in the day, her expression measured to limit the pain of loss she's feeling right now. her voice is frank, as frank as she can manage. elena's never been convincing. ] Caroline Forbes is gone. [ she takes in a deep breath. ] So is Stefan. And Tyler Lockwood. [ what else is there to say? there should be more, but there's not. caroline's room is empty. stefan's apartment too. no one's answering any calls. their best friend is gone. she and bonnie are alone. ] They're gone. [ it's said with terrible finality. she feels tears warm her eyes. ] Cheerleading is cancelled for now.

{ private to eric northman. }
[ she barely pauses before connecting to eric. ] I think I could use another drink.

{ private to damon salvatore. }
I'm coming over.

[ Today is a day where most would be at risk of oversleeping.The dome lies dark like in the dead of night. The sun hasn’t risen today, streetlights casting a dull yellow glow and occasionally flickering out into nothing, only to spark back to life a moment later. There is no electric flicker from the kiosk. The Wardens are still. The wardens are silent.

The dome isn’t silent. There is a rustling of leaves, a snapping of twigs. Claws, scraping against concrete. The inhuman screech of an animal in peril, an animal hunting, an animal hunted. A screech that promises sharp claws and sharper teeth and blood.

The dome isn’t still either. There is something moving, thick as a shadow, tangible as a chill down your spine. Something that doesn’t belong here, something that snuck in when no one was looking. A boogeyman under the bed. A ghost in the closet. A will o’ the wisp, blinking in and out of existence under the flickering streetlights. Whatever it is it’s moving, leaving a trail of cold, dead fear wherever it passes. Something dark. A shadow so pitch black that it blots out the very lights in your heart, dragging your fears out screaming and kicking, reducing even the strongest, toughest man to a blubbering baby.

Perhaps best to stay in bed today, Marina. ]

((OOC: Event information HERE. We ask the winners of the raffle to fill out a simple survey and then tag into the Vapor thread HERE! Happy mingling, Marinanites! ))

[Stiles? Is kind of freaking out. While he's used to getting calls from his friends about having woken up in strange places or not knowing how they got somewhere? It doesn't usually happen to him. He's pacing back in forth in the room he woke up in. He's already listened to the greeting -- and an underwater prison? Really? How is this even possible? He has roughly ten thousand questions and he missed his last dose of Adderall and where the hell is Scott? His heart is beating too fast and he rakes his hand through his hair, eyes wide. Remembering Lydia's trick about holding your breath when you're having a panic attack, he tries that first.

[Then he reaches up and turns on the communicator that is on his head and he doesn't remember putting it on so there's also that. Oh my god. What is my life? he wonders, eyes still alarmingly and almost comically wide.]

Dude. Please tell me someone here knows Scott McCall.

[Because right now that is the one person that Stiles really wants to see because if Scott is there, he knows that somehow, everything is going to be okay.]

Anyone? Bueller...?

[ Voice, open to all ]

'Bout a week ago, some guy asked me how many people I'd seen come an' go since I got here. In three months it's somethin' like... 70 out of 110. Probably more now, I ain't bothered countin'... but that kinda stuff can really get you down, even when you don't know th' numbers. We lose people all th' time here. People we got to know here, friends from back home... [ He falls silent for a beat. Draws a steadying breath. ] An' it's sad. It's damn sad an' there ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it but keep goin'.

...I guess I just wanted t' remind y'all about th' Memorial Garden down in Sector 4. Anyone who wants t' plant somethin' there in memory of someone they lost, whether they were here or back home... you're welcome to. It's for all of us, th' ones that are still here an' the ones that aren't.

[ Voice, locked to Sougo ]

Hey, Sougo... I need your help with somethin'.


[ Action, open ]

[ Aidan will be dividing his day between lugging boxes between Sector 2 and 4, and later spending a few long hours in the Memorial Garden. Feel free to approach the pensive country boy! ]

[Morning - Stefan's Bedroom - Closed to Caroline]

[It hits him at all at once, the memories of the past months rolling into his brain. It's overwhelming, as they overlay with the memories of his life here, but one thing in particular sticks out among the rest.

Because it feels endless, constant, and horrific. The agony of being trapped in a small space, drowning over and over, the water filling up his lungs and sending him spiraling into death.

He sits up straight in bed, his entire body soaked in a thin layer of sweat, his heart beating so fast he feels like it's going to burst from his chest. He sucks in a shuddering breath, and even though the air goes into his lungs, he still feels like he's drowning there beneath the water in that dark, dark, safe.]

[Afternoon - Blood Shack - Open to All]

[Alcohol is the only thing that numbs the pain, calms his nerves, and he's certainly had his fair share today. It's easier not to think under the weight of intoxication, to hide from the confusion and the disorientation of layered memories, good and bad, with an unsteadiness that he's in control of, that he caused himself.

It's the only semblance of control he's had since he woke up that morning.]

[ caroline is feeling the effects of the wonderland event, The Dormouse to be specific. so when the camera comes on, you see her face, her expression a tiny bit crazed maybe just because she's having a great time doing whatever.]

So... Guess what guys? [ she makes a face and suddenly vampire teeth click down from her actual teeth.] I'm a vampire! [ yeah, she says it like she's admitting her favorite color is blue or something.] Don't worry though, I don't eat people or anything.

open action / sector three.

[ the drone of the wardens announcing a new day isn’t jarring to elena in the least. it’s the day’s number, through her fog of sleep, that snags her attention. the repetition of her list of crimes. she awakes slowly and all at once, her eyes on the ceiling of a quiet apartment, in a familiar room. she seats up with a start.

she ignores her welcome basket with a burst of disquiet in her gut, her mind already adding this up despite her reluctance to believe it. she gets up out of her old bed, devoid of sheets. moving into the hall, into the living room and adjoining kitchen doesn’t help. it’s empty. she made sandwiches with damon in that kitchen that first day here. curled up on that couch with caroline countless times.

it’s the thought of caroline, damon, everyone she’s left and who isn’t here -- that prompts her to abandon the emptiness of the apartment and recheck the morning messages for one thing.

day 245. she’s been -- where? lost in the stabilizer? -- for three days. her jaw tightens around the belated fear, anger, and frustration towards this place clawing her throat. the devastation of knowing she’s returned or even that she hasn’t gone anywhere. she squeezes the communicator in her hands, nearly hard enough to break, but she doesn’t. can’t. wouldn’t.

she slips it onto her ear instead and heads for the building’s exit. ]

( { private voice to caroline forbes, bonnie bennett. } )

( { private voice to stefan salvatore. } )

( { private voice to damon salvatore. } )

-

open video.

[ it’s after she’s back at her apartment and talked to everyone she needs to that elena curls her feet under herself on her bed and makes a network-wide video. her eyes are glassy from all the reunions, but her smile is as reassuring as she can make it. ] Hey. It turns out I’m back. I guess the wardens weren’t done with me yet. [ there’s some weak wryness to lighten the mood. ] I thought everyone should know. [ and considering it’s newbie day: ] For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Elena.

( { private video to zatanna zatara. } )

[Eric has been in a panic since he was woken by the incredibly distinct lack of the squishier emotions inside of him. He couldn't feel Sookie or her emotions and that had been a void deep enough to awaken the dead. Literally.

A check of all his abilities assured him that he was still a vampire and there was no physical reason for the bond to be broken. After a daylight search that had left him with a case of the bleeds and a certainty that Sookie was gone whether he wanted it or not, he'd gone to the Blood Shack. Walking into the familiar building had given him some hope. Sookie's scent still lingered there, but it was residual and nothing new. He walked to the bar, sorting through his emotions in the most distanced, analytical way possible in an attempt to control a rage and a pain that he'd only experienced once before: during Sookie's 'vacation' to fairyland. He filled a glass with blood and took a sip. That sip was enough blood to fuel the rage that bubbled so close to the surface even on a good day. The self control that Eric was so terribly proud of crumbled and the vampire broke apart in ways that he'd forgotten was possible.

It was easy to forget that Eric could be a weapon of perfect destruction. He was good at smiling and pretending. He was excellent at maintaining control of a frightening strength and rage. He was good at hiding the fact that he felt the negative spectrum of emotions so much easier than the positive ones. Through his bond with Sookie, he was able to tap into her emotions, able to feel them as if they were his own. He had gotten accustomed to what happy felt like and the complete lack of it left far too much space to fill with rage and anger, loss and pain. He hurled the glass of blood at the wall and screamed at the top of his lungs. There wasn't anything human or controlled about the way he began ripping things apart, tearing the building to pieces as an outlet for rage he didn't want to feel. It was difficult to tell because blood was still seeping from his eyes, ears and nose, but those were also blood tears running down his face.

He had so few people in this world he would weep at the loss of. The dome had managed to take away one. ]

[ooc: approach with caution. before the event. ]

[ ooc: A little forward dated so that this is an early evening edition of class in keeping with Eric's hours. Treat this as a mingle. Notifs are off so if you want to speak with Eric directly tag into one of his threads. I'll make him available for chit chat after class and for a Q&A]

[ Eric steps up in front of the class. He’s dressed in a grey pinstriped suit and black shirt. The collar of the shirt is open at the neck. It’s something he’d wear for one of Nan’s PR campaigns, and truthfully this feels much like one of those, with one exception: he doesn’t intend to pander to anyone. He’d gotten the impression Spencer wanted the truth, and he intends to give it to these people as well. When he’d begun discussing vampire psychology with Spencer Reid a couple of weeks ago, he’d never expected it to turn into a class. The idea of it amused him, as did the idea that he could be honest about things rather than read a script and smile charmingly until someone yelled cut. He looked out to the crowd, picking out the faces he knew then put on that oh-so-charming smile.]

Some of you know me, but I’ll introduce myself for those that don’t. I’m Eric Northman. I run the Blood Shack here in the dome and I’m a thousand year old vampire. [ Never let it said that Eric doesn’t like to be dramatic. His fangs descend at the last bit and he grins, letting everyone get a good look at them. Seconds later the fangs are gone and the charming smile is back. ]

I’m here today because Mr. Reid requested that I talk a little bit about vampire psychology. Apparently this is a topic of discussion among the Defense Force. I’d like to set some misconceptions right. I suppose, first and foremost, I should acknowledge that the bulk of my knowledge deals with vampires in my world. I realize there are different types of vampires here in the dome and there is the possibility of the psychology, as well as “the rules” [ yes, he did use air quotes] varying. That being said, I’m going to jump right in.

I believe the most interesting question Mr. Reid and I discussed that day was whether vampires could be held to the same lawful standards as human, from a psychological point of view. The simple answer is yes. As you will be able to see in a demonstration I’ll conduct in a moment, I do not turn into a raving monster around blood. I do not lose control and I don’t slaughter willy nilly. [ There’s a smirk, a look of amusement. Sookie might’ve helped him with this lecture. Willy nilly was her contribution. ]

We discussed the idea that humans are cattle to vampires and just as a human would not be held responsible for the slaughter of a cow, we should not be held responsible for the slaughter of a human. While that idea isn’t entirely wrong, [ He pauses, as if considering his next comment ] many of you are cattle as far as many of us are concerned—that idea is flawed. I’ve actual experience with actual cattle from my days as a human and I’ve yet to see cattle redeem their entire races with one action as I’ve seen the occasional humans do. Humans are capable of much more than they generally accomplish. Cattle are not.

[ He looks directly out to the crowd. ] You are food, but a few of you have the ability to be so much more. Enough about you, on to more about vampires. [ He dismisses the subject with a wave of his hand. ] People forget that vampires were human once. I had a wife, I had children, I had parents and subjects and friends and enemies. [ So yes, for any of you wondering, he is a king, or was at one point] Because we were once human, we’re like humans in some ways. There are vampires who enjoy the arts, those that enjoy being social [ He’s thinking of Caroline here ] and those of us that enjoy mayhem and murder. Yes, being a vampire does allow you to get in touch with the mayhem and murder side of things. Blood is intoxicating in a way that alcohol wishes it could be. A flood of blood is enough to make one practically giddy and to be honest, I spent my younger days knee deep in it. However, I was fortunate to have a maker that instilled humanity in me and showed me the benefit of controlling my urges. Humans are brilliant inventors. The world has come a very long way since I was human, and I’d like to enjoy those advances. Controlling my urges allows me the ability to do just that. Are there days I’d still like to kill everyone in the room? [ A smirk, a glance about the crowd and a wink]

Of course.

In short, yes, we can control ourselves and yes, control generally comes with age, but there are some of us born with extraordinary control. I need approximately two pints of blood a day. Anything more is just gluttony.

All of that being said, vampires shouldn’t be governed by humans. In my world, we have the Authority of which I happen to be a Chancellor. We deal with vampires who get out of control, lay down a series of guidelines and provide a chain of authority for vampires. We’ve got the ‘muscle’ so to speak to enforce the guidelines. Humans simply don’t have that, nor do humans garner enough respect from the vampires to enforce anything. After all, you’d hardly take orders from your hamburger. [ By the grin on his face, it’s meant to be a joke. ]

Now, I did promise you a demonstration. Once that’s over I’ll open the floor for questions. Don’t bother asking how to kill me because I won’t answer those.

[ As mentioned by the wardens yesterday, Eric is hosting a costume party. The Blood Shack is lit by candles for the evening (he remembers the last party he had being interrupted by a power outage) and a small buffet of sorts has been erected. It furnishes mostly hors d'oeuvre and finer foods, things that Caroline picked out as Eric hasn't a clue about human food.

There is blood on tap (naturally) as well as a full bar. Eric has made certain to include water, sodas, tea and various non-alcoholic drinks.

The jukebox is playing a variety of music, but patrons are always invited to pick out their own music. The dance floor has a disco ball and there's the ever present 'dancing' pole on stage if someone gets brave. Tables are scattered about as are sofas and chairs so that people have a choice where they sit.

Enjoy yourself, mix, mingle and admire everyone's costume and everyone is required to have a costume in order to be here. ]

[ooc: I've turned off replies so if you want Eric's attention please tag his thread. Mingle here, have fun and be merry? Everyone is invited, including and especially newbies. ]

[ So this is what it comes down to. Either this is, somehow, what it claims to be, or - more likely - he's finally hit his psychotic break, the moment that his psyche finally dismantles from within and disengages from reality entirely. With how his entire life has been crafted around fitting in, escaping notice, surviving without being caught, it would make sense that his breakdown would revolve around finally being taken down as what he is. And what poetic justice there was to be found in the location of this bizarre facility.

It doesn't really matter what this is. Real or not, the way to get through this is the same as getting through anything else. Fit in, learn everything that I can, earn the trust of others. If there's a way out of this, I'll find it, but I'm not going to find it by lashing out. Stay with the code. Survive, and get back to what's important. What terrible timing, just when my counterpart and I were getting back to our game.

As the video turns on, he affects a friendly enough tone, though he doesn't go for anything overly happy because nobody should sound chipper about being in prison. Levity does help normal people, though - dry levity. ]

Interesting place you've set up here. It does read a bit more as vacation spot than a prison, but I guess that's not something I should be complaining about in my position. Though the jumpsuit I could honestly do without. I think it makes me look jaundiced - skin tone, you know.

[ He purses his lips and gives a small shrug with that, gesturing at his face.

I always had wondered how I'd look in one. At least I have that answer now. All the more reason to hang onto the code, I think. ]

So, I'm curious. Is everyone here treated to such a creative interpretation of their actions?

[ Enough of my charges were a reach that it seems like there could a theme to it, and it'd be a good start to get a feel for the place, how well I can keep up appearances... and maybe just how many playmates I have down here. It's oddly fitting, left at the bottom of an ocean. From another perspective, I might even appreciate the irony. ]

Hello? [Chloe pauses, lifting a hand to the communicator to check it for a second. It reminds her of the communicator Oliver gave her when she first joined the team full time. It's only been a few months or so since then but it felt like a lifetime ago. Of course, everything is different now and she doesn't belong with the team anymore. She belongs in a prison.]

I guess this is working. [Her voice is monotone, her expression blank. She has just arrived and she already accepts why she is there. If helping Davis isn't enough wrong, she is guilty of plenty of other things. She doesn't feel sorry for herself for being in this position, but she is ashamed of all she's done. Not because she doesn't believe in the reasons behind the wrong she did but now she knows it was all for nothing. She was stubborn, she should have listened to the others and maybe the price she is paying by being locked up in here is nothing compared to what is happening out there to them now. If they are still there at all.] I just wanted to test the equipment.

[The video fades to black]

[Audio]

I'm Chloe Sullivan.

[On screen is one (1) very wet, very much line facing, Kurt Ambrose. He's managed to get his expression under some control but he still manages to look frustrated as he talks, even as he tries to ignore the water dripping into his eyes.

Okay so he may have gone for a swim...after he tried to catch the fish to see if the sluggish feeling he had was just because of drugs or something else entirely weird. Said swim wasn't exactly what he was aiming for and he actually failed in his goal to start with, and he's now sitting on the beach as he contemplates it all and finally using the device.]

If this is an actual prison, then letting your prisoners near water after doing something to them where they could drown very easily is not the best way to keep your prisoners alive. [He is judging you so hard in other words and he's hoping the fact that he looks like a very tall Olympic athlete means he can intimidate some answers out of people.]

Apart from that if anyone has information as to why a military officer is being charged by what I can only guess is a bunch of civilians I would very much like an answer. [And then there's a sigh.] Please. And if someone wouldn't mind showing me where I can find a place to stay as I figure this place out I would appreciate it.