MarinaNova Asylum

Aloha!

[Jake greets everyone cheerfully! He looks...more ~smug~ than just cheerful, though. Almost as if he's won something! A bet, perhaps?]

I have a highly important inquiry, if everyone would lend me an ear.

Say you've won a bet, and as your hard-earned prize, you now find yourself with a rather obstinate fella to command as you please.

Hypothetically speaking, of course, what sorts of scandalous tomfoolery would you have him engage in?

[Rose is standing on the beach and she does look amused. She's wearing the orange jumpsuit and she's got her arms crossed over her chest. It's her 'I'm having none of this' look. She's ticked. She's been left on the beach by the Doctor again. She's got a clone that she's not entirely sure what to do with, but she knows that someone has to take care of him, make him into the man he could be. The Doctor thinks she's the person for that. She still hasn't decided how she feels about that. It's the Doctor, but it's not the Doctor, not the way his other regenerations are. She does know that this isn't the time to be put in prison, particularly without her human!Doctor or her Doctor!Doctor.]

Had quite enough of beaches. Ever here 'bout timin' bein' everything?

[Big sigh.]

All right then. Anyone ever come here on purpose?

[In Sector 0 stands a formidable man who despite his age is in excellent health and despite the anonymity of the orange jumpsuit still exudes leadership, wit, intelligence and demands respect without his even saying a word. He isn’t in a hurry to get anywhere. Clothing is unimportant as long as he has some. Food isn’t an immediate necessity.

He stands there calmly, taking in his surroundings as he absorbs and attempts to understand all the information he has been given. Anyone passing by is free to notice him. However, having little to no trouble deciphering the technology of the headset unit, he does finally speak over the network.

His voice is calm, but not without purpose.] I’m Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise. It seems that I’ve been taken from my ship and... imprisoned here with the rest of you. As we all seem to find ourselves in a similar situation, I hoped a number of you might find the time to answer a number of questions.

First. Under whose authority do Veridical and Conscienti imprison their inmates in MarinaNova Asylum?

Second, on what planet does the Saylar Ocean exist?

Third, and I suppose last but not least for now, what is the approximate length of time in which one remains here within the dome for this… decidedly contrived attempt at rehabilitation?

[There is a pause here, as he considers whether or not to tack on another question here. There are just so many things to ask and Jean-Luc is known for being too curious for his own good. Finally, he decides against it.] Any explanation to any of these questions would be of great help. Thank you.

[ the ugly orange jumpsuit is of no concern to this tall blonde. she's been there for less than an hour, and she's already collecting various components for... something, arranged before her in neat, organized piles. ]

Your communications network is crude and inefficient. [ ah, borg grade insults. gotta love 'em. ] I require an interphasic scanner and a phase compensator. [ she stops to push her hair out of her face, unintentionally showcasing her cybernetic implants. this is why she never wears her hair down. it gets in the way. ] A scanner capable of multiphasic resolutions or a micro-caliper would also prove to be useful.

...thank you for your time. [ spoken almost uncomfortably, like a forced afterthought - which is exactly what it is. ]

[ There's a new face in the dome; most of one, anyway. His pale, glistening skin covers the majority of his face, though on the left side the skin is missing, from just above his hairline to the bottom of his cheek, where it comes to a point. The shape of his face remains intact - a dark, sleek metal with lights intermittently blinking on and off. The eye on this side is also a plain dark metal contour, its gold counterpart a hint at its usual appearance. (A larger visual aid than the icon, if so desired.)

He does not appear to be in pain, or particularly bothered by the damage. Nor does he pay the jumpsuit much mind, as he addresses the network purposefully. Despite the emotions he now most assuredly feels, he has regained his composed, rational calm; he's examined his immediate surroundings and done a bit of poking through the network before speaking up. You might chalk that up to him being an android or to him being a Starfleet officer; neither would be wrong, but the complete reasoning involves both. ]

Greetings. My name is Lieutenant Commander Data, of the Federation starship Enterprise. I understand that this device with which I have been supplied is connected to a communications network, utilized by those who, like myself, have been brought here. I have a number of queries regarding our present situation, location, and the nature of these “wardens” responsible for our imprisonment. If anyone would be willing to do so, any information that could be provided would be very much appreciated.

[ And with a slight inclination of his head. ]

Thank you.

[ the sound of the heavy bowling balls rolling down the lanes and then the clink! of pins can be heard in cycles in the background. ]

I remember this place quite well, though I was only here a short time. And that was not so long ago, either! [ she takes a deep breath, and then exhales a sigh. ] Yes, the air quality is very lovely. And your network is rather pretty, if not unfamiliar to me.

Who among you would enjoy describing what it is you do with your lives in prison, and if any of you enjoy bowling? My visual sensory units are not repaired, so you may find it very easy to win against me! That is, until I convince this cute little headset do the looking for me...