MarinaNova Asylum

[Video]

Hey guys! It's me again, Becca, back at it with the beach plans for the 'Birthaversary' as I like to call it. There'll be good company and great food at the Beach in Sector 1 all day, so come on out okay? There'll be dancing and beach smores. And gifts for everyone. If that doesn't sell you, let me know what will.

It's also kinda my birthday. You don't wanna disappoint the birthday girl, do you?

[The Beach]

[Rebecca's done her small part in setting up the beach for some all-day fun, from a volleyball net to some (half assed) streamers hanging from the beach huts. There are coolers full of ice and drinks next to a barbecue set up that she's hoping she can con her lovely boyfriend into working at - otherwise it's free grill for those self-inclined. There's food such as salads, burgers, hot-dogs and veggie options ahoy, there's also a ton of pies and cakes contributed by one Charlotte Charles on some set up tables with checkered table cloths. On one such table nearby there is a table of idential bags for guests. Rebecca took some time yesterday to stick random small trinkets and generic gifts in each one so that everyone goes home with something in celebration.

Come nightfall there will be light from some lanterns to set the mood for a warm night by the fires easily lit individually or the larger bonfire that will take place more center stage for smores and general hand-warming. Throughout the day there will be some alcoholic beverages present, but come darker skies it's more liberally passed about in the name of good fun and celebration.]

(Ooc: Comment notifications will be turned off but Rebecca's comment below will be used for network replies. Otherwise, this mingle is open to all for beach birthaversary party shenanigans!)

[ Yesterday was traumatising. What do we do when things get traumatising? Deflect! Suppress! Build a ridiculous monstrosity with hydraulics and lawnmower engines! Yeah, he's literally spent all day on this thing that the camera is currently focusing on. This highly NSFW thing that shouldn't be viewed at work or around minors even though it contains no actual humans. ]

Yeah, I'm quite proud of this baby. I really think I'm on to the next super weapon here - she's got enough fire power to blast us out of here and all the way to Denny's!

[ He revs the engine a bit, testing how firmly that dildo is attached. Looks good for now. ]

I'm starting an illegal fight ring behind the museum. Bring whatever dildo nunchuck or vibrator taser you can fashion and meet me for some good ol' fashioned butt kicking. Oh, and bring beer!

[ ACTION ]

[ As promised, Deadpool will be lounging around on the lawn behind the museum, fiddling with his gorgeous invention and building a quite frankly frightening assortment of sex toys based weaponry. ]

Video
[Jack comes on the screen in front of the store previously known as the Plush Rump and now proudly sporting a brand new sign stating Captain Jack's Exotic Emporium.]

So. I took this place over a while ago and I was intending to have a great big grand opening day, but what with one bit of drama and another I haven't got as far with the renovations as I'd like to.

So instead I'd like to invite you to come and help me do the place up! I've found some paint and fabrics and things, but a little extra manpower wouldn't hurt, and I could use some people to help set out the stock as well. Any helpers grateful received!

Action
He'll be at the store all day, working on getting it set up.

[It had taken some playing around with this weird device thing on his head before Remy got it working, staring at the feed in silence for a while before figuring out if he had gotten it working or not, and pushing past his concerns if this was a good idea or not. He was in an unknown place that was most certainly not New Orleans, in a (ugh) tacky orange prisoner suit, with none of his weapons, his powers not working, and had been told a mass of information that hadn’t really gotten through his confusion and shock to really register. Was he really wanting to draw attention to himself?

And this was all on top of the fact that the last thing he remembered was screwing up a mission to save his father from a group of people trained to kill and there was a good chance he himself had been left for dead on the Assassin’s back yard…

He was not having a good day.]

So, [Before he paused, as if reconsidering if he should cut the feed and just explore by himself first. But he was already in this, may as well jump in with both feet.] This place really needs to up its game with welcome parties. No drinks waitin’, none of those little stringed flower necklaces, especially here, at a beach, it all just sloppy. How a homme supposed to feel welcomed?

[A moment later of silent thinking before Remy finally addressed one of the many serious questions on his mind.] ‘nd I be guessin’ that, whatever ‘nd wherever I be, that that little voice through this headset thing be right, we all prisoners here. That… kinda puts a dampener on the day.

[ CLOSED TO IANTO ]

[ He went to bed with Jack the night before. It was an attempt, he assumes, to bring this whole thing together. The three of them as the three of them rather than separate parts held together by necessity. Everything was fine, nothing to report and he slept like the dead through the night and well into the morning, schedule still not completely shifted from back in the day when the sun was actually something to avoid.

It makes waking up all that worse. He can see just fine in the dark of course but the harsh light of day adds a certain something. Colours are more vivid, shifting from browning rust to deep cherry reds, soaking into the sheets and clinging to his skin and face and mouth-

He scrambles out of bed, finding himself alone in more than just a physical sense, shock settling in like a fist to the gut. ]

[ OPEN ]

[ Jack is special in more ways than one and that's why he doesn't settle, doesn't wait for the announcement to confirm it the next morning. He's cleaned up now, scrubbed raw but some things you can't wash away and he keeps his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his coat as he stalks the streets, head bowed and jaw set. The taste doesn't leave his mouth, brown flakes and red specks and smears remaining in the lines of his hands and under his nails no matter how much he cleans. Nothing dramatic and that's perhaps worse because it feels so real. He's a killer. He'll always be a killer. Some things you can't wash away. ]

[EVENT INFO]

[ VIDEO - FILTERED AWAY FROM JACK HARKNESS, IANTO JONES, KITTY PRYDE THE OLDER ]

[ Reid has spent some time carefully setting up the encryption, knowing fully well that his attempts to keep this discussion away from from the people that might take it the wrong way may result in them taking it the wrong way, should they ever find out. This is the best way he can think of to discuss this though, as a community and after yesterdays events he feels a stronger need to rally than ever before. 

He's in full on Serious Mode when he clicks on the feed, voice even and confident, perhaps more so than most are used to seeing him. ]

Good afternoon. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Spencer Reid. I'm a member of the Behaviour Analysis Unit of the FBI back home — law enforcement. I used to be part of the Investigative Team- [ Pretty much co-founded it back on day 150. ] - but quit the Force some time ago... and that leads us to what I want to discuss.

As some of you might know, the Defence Force has been controversial for longer than we've been in this prison. I feel, and I doubt I'm alone in this feeling, that it has outgrown its original purpose. There aren't that many of us left, certainly not enough to warrant an internal police force like this. Concerns have been brought up in the past that the Force acts without taking into account the wishes of the rest of the population, with regards to escape plans as well as punishments of our fellow inmates.

This is why I'm addressing you — I want to hear your opinions on the current state of the Defence Force. What is your impression? And, in a broader sense, what do you feel we as a community should do to better protect and care for each other?

Oh, and - please be discreet. I'm not looking to cause trouble with the current leaders of the Force, but I also don't wish to provoke them with this discussion. For the time being, please keep this between us.

[ Video - Chekov ]

Chekov - a word?

[ Video - Karev ]

Hey, uhm... Alex? Can I talk to you?

[Voice]

[It's the day. It's the day! She's been working up to this since she (was seeded the idea) landed here with her heels on the ground and her heart set on love. But of course, finding your true love is far from easy and it is kind of slim pickings in jail but that's still one large step up from Hell. So Satan's daughter Jezebel has deemed today the right time to get the ball moving so she can find Mr or Mrs Right already.

The feed starts with Jezebel looking up at the camera, flashing her good angle before a toothy little grin as she brings the lens down level. She's braided her hair around her two protruding horns and even has a little dab of lipgloss on. Her apartment still isn't quite right but one of the walls behind her already has a framed picture of a kitten on it and a doily on the couch armrest.]

Hi! I'm um, Jezebel.

I was just wanting to tell you guys that today, well - tonight Lyrical's going to be a total dating hotspot for singles! So if you're looking for love you should head on down there, where there'll be some music and singing. And drinks, I guess. So you should go! Love doesn't wait, neither does lust-- whatever you're looking for... Lyrical's a must~ ♫

If you're not single well, I can't stop you from coming either if you want to for support. Or to build new polyamourous relationships. That's cool too.

See you there! [♥]

( Private Action; Spike )

( Private Voice; Deadpool )

[Action; LYRICAL/ MINGLE]

[So you heard the post and you decided to drop by Lyrical, the karaoke bar, on a whim or to witness the curious spectacle. That or you just happened to walk by on the same day Satan's little daughter Jezebel's declared to be her big first chance at finding love in this tiny little wading pool under the sea. She's put up a few glittery banners and has tried to organize some sort of food set up (with as much booze as she could muster) but she's not sure how to really run this thing being wholly devoid of experience. But she's still holding out in hopes someone will show up to join her.

Otherwise it'll be a lot of lonely demon girl sitting alone. You wouldn't do that to her, would you?]

(( OOC: Happy Halloween - sort of! EVENT INFO ))

((ooc: EVENT INFO ))

[ The camera turns on to reveal a very bored looking John Constantine. Complete in that lovely orange jumpsuit. ]

And here I thought I had gotten myself into the good graces again. Fighting the depths of Hell and restoring souls and all that. Good to see the Almighty and forces of Good really do ride that high horse of justice all the way to the bottom of the ocean. [ Not that he's denying his charges. They're all completely true. ] Let me put it to you this way: if the angels thought I was a desperation move, what makes you lot think rehabilitation would actually work?

[ John sighs. ] I don't suppose any of you might know where a sorry sod like me could find a pack of cigarettes. Oh, and, a proper pair of clothes. Orange was never really my color.

[ The plan was to go several days ago but things happen (or rather, they don't) and he kept pushing it off and now here we are in the land of procrastinators. Today seems like as good a day as any though to do a little covert operations, what with the wind and the kites functioning as a perfectly good distraction.

He waits until he's sure Kitty's out of the office and then walks into the Defence Force headquarters as if he belongs there. He did, for a long time, and he's a good enough agent to know that the key to infiltration is acting as if you have every right to be there — and maybe he still does, in a way. No contracts, nothing but verbal agreements and he practically founded the Investigative branch whose folders he's eagerly flipping through. Should anyone approach him, he'll brush it off — or try to. At least he doesn't need to bring anything with him when he leaves.

Later in the day he can be found at Bean Crushers, making his way through a large coffee and a stack of notebooks, scribbling frenetically through the latter while letting the former cool mostly forgotten. There's something cooking, no doubt about it. ]

[Damon is bored. BOOOOOOOOOOORED. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORED. Which is why he posts this video from the Blood Shack.]

Well, since the whole point of these social networks is to whine about your stupid problems, I guess I might as well join the "cool kids" [exaggerated air quotes] and complain about the shitty service we've been getting. Where are all our little robot slaves, picking up the trash? And why didn't anyone tell me they were cutting off my blood shipments?

Speaking of which, the Blood Shack is hiring. Servers. [There's a bit of a fang in his smile; you can probably guess how exactly you'll be serving.]

[posted a few minutes later]

I can't believe I forgot to post a pointless picture of my lunch that nobody cares about! Here it is.




Hashtag Delicious.


[ open action ]
[Damon is hanging out at the Blood Shack, bored and restless and cranky. Bother him at your own risk.]

[So Sebastian kindly offered to take the place of all maintenance bots. The Wardens don't recognise a good deal when they see one.]

[Video:]

[There's Sebastian, cheerfully smiling, composed, perfectly immaculate in his butler uniform as always.]

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Please excuse the interruption to your day – I will attempt to be brief. I have made some of your acquaintances already, but for those I have yet to meet: I am Sebastian Michaelis, head butler of the Phantomhive household.

[A small, polite bow at the camera. Even if you haven't been introduced some might have seen Sebastian's smiley, proper self around: waiting on his young lord or Madam Red, or recently helping out at Yuuki Kuran's Nine White Orchids flower shop. And now this:]

Given today's technical difficulties [Veridical wouldn't say if they were having trouble with the bots or not, so Sebastian passive-aggressively goes with the less flattering interpretation of her words] I thought to offer my services, should anyone have use of them. Anyone unaccustomed to cooking, or who would simply prefers not to cook their own meals, is welcome to stop by The Bistro in sector 2. Since it is currently unmanned, I will be using it for the time being. [Veridical kinda sorta said it was okay!]

I will do my best to accommodate any request. I am no professional chef, but I am accustomed to cooking for nobility, and have years of experience with preparing and serving banquets.

Thank you for your time, and do have a good day.

[Action]

[True to his word, Sebastian has claimed The Bistro restaurant as his place of operation for the day. Please come by and ask him to cook things for you. Or bake things. Please save him from this crushing boredom of not having enough to do.

Anyone passing by just might smell the lunch he's preparing for Ciel and Madam Red: grilled salmon on a spinach bed with duchess potatoes and garlic mushrooms. It smells delicious - surely you want some? Please come inside and give him things to do.]

| HEATWAVE EVENT INFO |

[ Dirty your nails. ]

[ You wake up in a coffin. You probably won't remember how you got here but now you're six feet under and awake. There's only one way up, through silk and walnut and several feet of loosely packed dirt. Maybe you panic before realizing you don't even breathe, and then panic some more. Maybe you'll just dig yourself out without further ado, because what else is there? Either way, you'll emerge in a graveyard.

It's the dead of night, but you can see clear as day. Everything sharper, more vibrant, crystal clear, an assault on supernatural senses. Cigarette smoke wafts through the air — Spike, sitting on a tombstone, waiting for you. ]

Took you long enough.

[ A night out ]

[ The Bronze is packed tonight. A local band is playing, high schoolers dancing or playing pool or drinking non-alcoholic drinks. A girl with red hair is fooling herself that she's doing homework in a corner when in reality she knows she'll get dragged out onto the dance floor before long, probably by the intense blonde who's already working her moves to the rhythm. It's a good night, good energy.

A guy in a black leather coat and bleach blond hair is surveying the crowd, slowly making his way along the outskirts with menacing intensity. Recognize him? Think this is a good time to say hi? ]

(OOC: EVENT INFO | RAFFLE THREAD)

AUDIO // PRIVATE TO CHUCK & TON

I apologize for not getting back to you sooner about your invitation, but the general and I would be happy to join you for dinner. That is, if the offer still stands.

VIDEO // OPEN

Good morning, residents of MarinaNova. My name is Princess Leia Organa. I'm hesitant to refer to us as "citizens," for we're all prisoners within this facility, regardless of whether we enjoy our accommodations or feel deserving of our sentences. I apologize to anyone who has recently arrived to the prison, for perhaps that makes my question poorly timed, but the influx of new inmates reminded me of something I must ask.

Who is and isn't from a planet called Earth? I am not, and I hadn't heard of it until I was brought here. I come from a world called Alderaan in a galaxy I'm sure most of you have never been to before. [ though some of them may have seen, as has been the case with a few. ] Surely I'm not the only one who finds it odd that an intergalactic, multidimensional serving rehabilitation center favors the population of this one world over those from other systems.

Oh, okay... I think I'm doing this right. [Shaky camera steadies on pink frills in a pink room, something recently claimed and immediately personalized. The walls aren't quite the right shade but she'll fix that in time, but in the meanwhile she's decked out the bedroom in fuzzy throw pillows and shag carpet, butterfly posters and pretty much every furnishing that's spent time in the bedroom of a strongly feminine 90s kid.

Plot goes Jezebel on the bed, flat out on her stomach with her legs kicking back behind her. The framing of the lens hides her horns from view, cropping them out in lieu of long red curls that bob around when she tilts her head.] Hi! I'm Jezebel.

I just spent like, forever getting settled here but this is the first time I've ever been able to make friends. So I was wondering if anyone wanted to talk! My dad used to be super protective and I pretty much never got to leave the house so... I've got a lot of things to catch up on. Like ice cream, Nyteblayde, swimming, popsicles... [She's counting on her fingers as she goes along] kittens, puppies, cars with doors, grass and trees - but I saw a couple of those - and pretty much every kind of food I can imagine. And that's just to start.

I'm going to go out later and look around again. I want to know everything I've missed out on. But - geez, is it always this cold? [Asks the girl from Hell, who's used to scorching temperatures. Literally.]

[Action; The Blood Shack]

[Okay so it might've been more up her alley to go have fun trying karaoke for the first time but she's here instead. Maybe on a subconscious level it feels more like home, the metallic scent of blood tinging the air and the over all feel of the place. She wanders around before ordering herself a drink - starting with a bubbly soda but with the intention of trying other drinks as she goes along. Don't think she'll be startled by a taste of alcohol though, she is... Satan's daughter after all.

She can also be found on the way to or from the Shack, perhaps a little more giddy on the return trip.]