MarinaNova Asylum

[ ♚ public video & action ]

[ Sheryl might not need to work anymore, but she was still a musician at heart. Telling her not to make music, would be telling her she had nothing to live for anymore. These past few months, Sheryl was still making music.

And being on stage again was a dream to her. She was wearing this outfit that took her some time to have made. Appearances like this really brought back a lot of memories. Before she became the Galactic Fairy, she had started out performing in places like these. ]

EVERYONE, LISTEN TO MY SONG!

I can no longer remember the start of this journey.
Before I realized, I was already here.
As the seasons wore away,
Those who sense the invisible infrared rays become lost.

I will probably lose them,
These feelings that I risk for life for.
I loved as if I were fighting to survive.
I spent all my time building my dream.
I wanted to land on that star.
I wanted to fly in your sky.

[ After the performance, she gives a deep bow and waved to the audience. A moment later, she picks up something from behind the stage and shows it to the audience. It looked like a CD and it had Sheryl's image on it. It was a CD she had been working on and it was difficult considering the lack of the resources she was used to. But she was a pro, wasn't she? She can work with what she had. ]

Thank you! Thank you, everyone!

I have been working very hard on this for several months now. I wish for everyone ... to get a copy ... and listen to my song. In my heart, I will always be a musician.

And this prison won't silence me!

[ ♚ private text || Lyle Dylandy ]

is it too early to ask for a second date?

[ ooc: aka don't worry. She needs help with some grunt work. ]

[Over in sector 2, any passers by might find a certain Jack Noir sitting with the Queen's Ring on his finger, dog face and all. He appears to be happily surrounded by multiple holes in the soil, his one paw covered in a strange mixure of blood and dirt, sullying the shiny gold ring with the four pearls that sits between his claws.

If you're not careful/paying attention (or if you don't spot the smooth doggy grin on Jack's face), you might fall into one of said holes. Hey, if he can't stab people, breaking their ankles is clearly the next best option.]

First person to respond to this who I haven't met before gets to go on a picnic.


[ Private to PM and Roxy ]

Hey, I have to do this social outing thing. You interested?

[Jack comes on the screen in a mostly empty apartment, sitting on a chair rolling the Queen's ring between his pointed metal fingers. Compared to Jack's usual perpetual state of fury, he looks almost calmer. There's a steady "clink, clink, clink" as it rolls over each knuckle joint for a good thirty seconds before he catches it in his palm and speaks.]

Snowman's missing.

[He seems to be torn on whether to be happy or annoyed about this issue, which is evident by the way the corners of his jaw twitch.]

Lucky bitch don't deserve it.

[His hand closes over the ring with a loud creak.]

Gettin' real sick of this shithole. Boring. 'bout to start making my own entertainment.

[Good morning, MarinaNova. Hopefully you are enjoying your day, because its about to be ruined by one slightly frantic dogface. Not so much frantic as in...well, it looks like very dizzy as he destabilizes himself and teleports at random around the dome, occasionally bumping into people or walls.

He's very obviously looking for a certain someone, but maybe you can catch him before he inevitably blinks away again to give him a piece of your mind.]

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.

[So hey, that one-day exhibition at the museum? The one about amphibians?

The one with frogs in it?

Snowman's basically spent the entire day coming in and out of there. She doesn't read any of the placards or look at the salamanders, nor does she spend any time in the gift shop.

If she's in there, she's staring at the live frogs.

Just staring at them.

Because she really, really hates frogs.]

[Voice; filtered to Jack Noir.]

Jack Noir.

Don't fuckin' touch me.

[Its hard to tell what set off Jack Noir without the video function to assist, but anyone who strolls by Sector Five later might find a certain carapacian storming his way down the hall, minus one arm, the other clutching something tightly in the opposite hand. The little stump leftover is still bandaged, but obviously no longer bleeding.

Advanced medicine was a wonderful thing. The barrier collar is back in place, and nobody in Marina was surprised.]

Put on a show, they said. Ok fine. You want a show? I'll give you a fucking show.

When I'm damn good and ready.

[A lengthy pause before he throws up a filter.]

[Filtered from the Prospitian Monarch, the Aimless Renegade, and the Wayward Vagabond]

While we're at it, who here has a knack at handling bio-mechanics? I got a job for you.

[ooc: action permissible!]

[WV figured out how to make calls private JUST FOR YOU, Jack Noir. Don’t you feel special? You should. Because right now there’s a very angry little carapacian face up in your communicator, and it’s not going away.]

Sovereign Slayer!

I have been discouraged from contacting you on multiple occasions—and fine advice that is, as no good can come of such an interaction—however, today I break this promise. I can no longer sit idly by, silent, as you terrorize those whom I care about! Fiend! Monster!

Even with that stolen weapon of yours, you are no more than a despicable coward, and a—a menace to society!

[he pauses to catch his breath, his whole face feeling very warm. Yeah, that’s…. pretty much all that he called to say.]

[WHAT U GONNA DO]

[It's becoming readily obvious that she's not going to be getting her dice back any time soon. Which sucks, but at least it's not like she's helpless without them. She has her powers back now, sort of, and her punishment's over. So if she's going to take out Jack Noir, there's no point in sitting around and waiting for a better opportunity.]

Today's your lucky day! I finally found time in my busy schedule to kill you.

Are you still interested? Or do I have to track you down? Really, either's fine with me, so long as you make it interesting.

[ 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?

[ Welcome to Sector 5, home of the hospital, non-denominational prayer facility, memorial gardens, graveyard and, more importantly, the museum.

Today, the wardens are treating you to a special exhibit titled "The History of Self-Stimulation Through Mechanical Seismic Activity" where you can partake in such wonderful displays such as "Hand Cranked — A Guide to Historical Devices" (complete with vintage ads such as Aids That Every Woman Appreciates and Vibration is Life ) and "Bullets and Probes — Vibrations from a Universal Perspective" that feature devices from many different worlds.

Feel free to gawk at these colorful and sometimes frightening displays, peruse the gift shop (of course there's a gift shop!) or maybe just wander the rest of the Sector! ]

(ooc: Thread can take place at any time of the day, anywhere in Sector 5! Remember the rain and needless to say, those links are NSFW to varying degrees! )

[Jack gets the network's attention by turning on his headset and whipping it across the room so everyone gets to enjoy the sound of the microphone coming in contact with something heavy. Unlike PM, Jack has not taken his ring off (or if he has, its not off now), so the strange winged, dog-like humanoid is walking over to retrieve the headset. Unlike the day before, he's fitted with a shiny silver collar.

It looks like he's finally taken up residence somewhere, though the room is pretty dark. With what little light is filtering in the room, people watching the feed might notice a few shelves with some strange odds and ends stacked on them. Nothing really special, to the naked eye -- in fact, it just makes him look like a pack rat.

The oddest among them seems to be a jar with a preserved, pure black eye floating in it.]

These robots think I'm gonna do shit for you assholes.

They got a funny sense of humor.

[After the announcement, her communicator clicks on. PM, outfitted with a new silver restraining collar, is lying in the bed she shares with WV and AR (who is hogging the blankets and more than a third of the bed thanks to being skewed diagonally). For the unfamiliar, the three of them are of a hard-shelled alien race--PM is pure sparkly white, and the other two a shiny beetle black.]

[As she starts to wake up, the situation seems so nonsensical that she doesn’t register it as anything more than an odd dream. There’s a span of confused, puzzled squinting with her remaining eye as she reads the summary of her punishment, and finds that no, she can’t turn her feed off. The very moment that the situation fully dawns on her is clear--a sudden widening of her eye, tension returning to her body. She pushes out of bed and strides out, her pajama gown billowing a bit behind her, and she ignores any half-asleep protests from her "dear friends." It takes all of her self-control to gently close the bedroom door.]

[She makes her way to the balcony of their Sector 2 home, which is at or near the top of the apartment complex, given the spectacular view. Only once she’s outside does she let herself explode.]

Excuse me, WHAT?!

[Her whole body is trembling with incredulous rage. Even if the rules had said something about being punished for injury, she didn't actually expect that to apply the one time when she was more victim than mutual combatant. It just seemed too bizarre to be real. PM grips the glowing gold ring that hangs around her neck as she takes a deep, calming breath.]

[Her voice is strong and has an angry edge, but she is otherwise in control.] Good morning. This is PM. It seems that the wardens are forcing me to broadcast myself today.

And this is why.

[They don’t want her to keep secrets? Fine. She’ll oblige. The alien queen brings her injured wrist up and points to her gauze-covered eye socket.]

Yesterday, a man named Jack Noir, known also as the Sovereign Slayer, ambushed me while I was decorating and preparing the new post office. He stabbed me through my wrist to pin me to the floor, and then gouged out my eye.

This punishment is for letting myself get hurt.

... Be careful, everyone.

[That offered, she stalks back inside to go about her day. And you all get to come with her!!]

---
((OOC: PM will be 100% trollable all day! About anything!! Everything she does is stalkable!!! ( Click through for more deets. )

[Hello MarinaNova. So for those who have been here, this face might be familiar. For those who haven't, it will now be gracing their camera as he focuses on its lens for a long moment -- almost like he had something he wanted to say before turning the camera on, except he couldn't figure out how to word it.

In the stretch of silence, his ear twitches twice and his little black nose wrinkles with something akin to disgust. His teeth are a little too sharp to be completely canine in nature.]

Same shit, different cage.

[After a few minutes of just sitting there, staring and waiting, his nose twitches again, but this time his lips curl backward in a growl and his ears flatten before the feed is cut.]

[ooc: he is en route to Sector 2 for anyone who wants to meet up with him in person.]

Okay. I don't know who's responsible for this.

But whoever it is? Haha. Very funny. Hilarious!

Nothing I've done is even that bad. [...except maybe one thing, but that was still justifiable! And as if she's going to admit to feeling like shit about it openly.] Maybe by bullshit human standards, I guess, but not by my race's!

...Unless this is Terezi's doing somehow? Okaaaaaaaay. Joke's over, Pyrope! Cut the stupid mind tricks or whatever and let's finish this! I've got way more important things to be doing.

[HA HA OH WOW just when she thought this dumb imprisonment deal couldn't get any dumb...er. More dumb.

Which it has just gotten.

Of course Snowman has snatched up her stupid paper bag full of her stupid effects as quickly as possible (and maybe made off with someone else's stuff too, it's hard to say, there was a lot of confusion going on amirite) and maybe throws a little tantrum when she realizes her hat and coat (!!) are not in there.

UGH. Ugh.

At least she has cigarettes.

But right now she's dressed in an outrageously hideous orange thing and creeping her way to Sector 0 to pick up her clothing. Hopefully without being noticed.

Because then she would probably have to really hurt somebody. And that seems to be against the rules.]

[When PM opens her eyes, her view is filled with the bright light of day and the silhouettes of spires, domes, archways, and columns. With a sharp gasp, she shoves herself to her feet, looking around rapidly before she's even finished waking up or adjusting to her surroundings. This is not Prospit.]

[Fortunately, the announcement answers her other questions. Most of them, anyway--she scoops up her paper bag and opens it quickly. Her post office badge and, yes, her ring.]

[She pulls it out and slips it on. There's a brief pause, and she sighs when it doesn't work. She mostly expected that, but still--at least everyone else is on the same playing field for today. Placing the ring back inside, PM clutches the bag tightly in her paw and starts a checklist in her mind. Head toward Sector 0. Meet up with her friends, and get them somewhere safe. Check in on Castell at the pet cafe. And, because her not-murdering-Jack agreement was with Sentience, begin the hunt for a certain archagent.]

[Video | Private to WV and AR]

[She forces a smile, even if she's not exactly in a smiling mood.]

Are you here? Please answer as soon as you can.

--
((OOC: PM is basically going everywhere, so feel free to tag her in the location of your choice!))