MarinaNova Asylum

[the video turns on to a close-up shot of a few pieces of colorful chalk lying on a black road. Then a small hand, its black carapace smeared with color, reaches into the frame and picks up the piece of blue chalk. Then another, equally smudged hand takes the communicator and picks it up, and the video bounces and sways as the communicator is set on the edge of a nearby bench. As the frame is adjusted, the side of a building comes into view:]

[it's covered in a chalk drawing of a blue sky, drifting white clouds, and rolling, chessboard-patterned hills dotted with low, spreading trees and patches of bright green grass. With no black chalk available, the artist has had to improvise: the black chessboard squares are really a fuzzy purplish rainbow of several colors, blended carefully into something a bit like black, but at once much more interesting.]

[the frame is adjusted a little more, enough to bring the artist himself into view, too: WV, a short, black-carapaced alien with a smile on his round face and nearly every part of his person dusted with chalk.]

Denizens of Marina! Greetings, and good afternoon. I am the Wayward Vagabond.

[with that out of the way, he continues:]

What unexpected good fortune this is! I had never thought to seek out this particular medium before—not for a very long time, that is, until today. Perhaps, for once, our machine wardens have shown sense, for I can attest to the therapeutic benefits of chalk! I sought it out once before in a time of dire misery—oh yes, most dire, indeed.

[he blinks. It's a pretty cute blink; his eyes are bitty and quite widely-spaced.]

I trust everyone who has thus far made use of it can attest to such benefits, as well!

[Calliope hadn't expected to ever wake up again--but here she is. Not on Prospit, but in a new and strange place.]

[It calls itself a prison, but Calliope isn't so sure she can fully agree.]

[Still, she isn't ready to toss the "game" out the window, so no video, no announcing her name. But there are other ways to play.]

[Calliope's voice is actually very androgynous and sort of gritty, but the lilt and enthusiasm and tones do lean it somewhat toward feminine.]

Hello, lovelies!

What a surprising, marvelous twist this is! I'm not even certain as to what I should do first. Hmm. Well, for starters, will anyone recommend their favorite Earth cuisine? Don't be shy!

[She really doesn't want to ask, but she knows she has to.]

... "brother"...?

[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]

[So, who else is not checking out that exhibit of sex toys? Because Peter isn't, he's actually somewhere a little nondescript. Some nook of the library, a stack of books on the desk next to him. He's in a long sleeved shirt, though gauze wraps his knuckles and peeks out every so often. The greater extent of his injuries for the moment out of view.

Save a bruise or two, but they're healing quite fast.] So I was thinking, there used to be a pamphlet in the welcome baskets, that gave a little info on the old place. Now that that's nil, I was just wondering if we had any other means of gathering and sharing information.

There's computers, but not everyone uses them. I was thinking more of some sort of distributable news update, kinda like a newspaper? Just gauging interest in the idea. There'd have to be contributions, I'm assuming, but it seems feasible. Even easily delivered, even, to anyone who'd want to subscribe. I'd have to talk to our friendly neighborhood mail-woman, of course.

[He shifts, then reaches for the device to filter private to Rogue;]

Uh, hey. I got that thing I meant to give you. If you're not busy today.

[So, it turns out that the museum has a gift shop!]

[And it is full of the cacophony of vibrating devices turned on high and set free to wander throughout the shop.]

[Cain just happens to be in Sector 5 at the same time. He's walking along with the air of perfect nonchalance, accompanied only by his dog.]

[Who now has a vibrating chew toy.]

[His frequency remains on even after his call and either he doesn't seem to notice or just doesn't care. He's not really thinking about the fact people can and will hear him. They didn’t listen to him when he talked to himself back home after all. To be perfectly honest he’s not really expecting anyone to answer him either. It’s been awhile since he just spoke his thoughts out loud, sometimes he just can't care enough to keep it all inside or to worry about who hears him. In the distance you can hear the clock tower chiming from wherever he is. You get the impression that it’s somewhere high.]

This place is frustrating… but I can’t sleep no matter where I go. These thoughts keep racing in my head, keeping me awake at night.

[Someone tried to stay in sector 5 away from the more populated areas as a way to protect people from himself as well as to have privacy. Some may have seen him trying to sleep on a pew in the nondenominational prayer facility or at least hanging around there. Needless to say what stuff he had started to gather was now gone.]

[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. )

[The feed clicks on, and Eddie is staring a little doubtfully at the steak and beer that have been set in front of him. They need to be careful now--cautious. They've alerted their prey in their early rage, and until they get their full strength back, they need to lay low. Peter Parker isn't the only one who can hide in plain sight. He's wearing an orange jump-suit, like all the other prisoners. It's not real clothing though--his Other is quite useful.]

...Was kinda freaked out, wakin' up, findin' out I was in prison. But then they're givin' me steak? Beer? Can't figure out if I'm dreamin' or this is just... weird.

Keep thinkin' if I roll with it, it won't sink in. [He sighs, grabbing a knife and a fork.] Anyone feel like dinner?

((OOC: Eddie can be found at the Sizzle and Sear, in Sector 2. He will not be showing the symbiote unless you really, really tick him off, so even if it appears in some of his icons, try to ignore it! <3))

[At first, one might assume PM sounds perfectly calm. But if the listener has a good ear, they may pick up that it is that razor-thin sort of calm that comes from being in a lot of pain, and possibly shock.]

Greetings. This is PM. We have a post office again. [A pause.] It is in Sector 2, but it will not be ready for business until tomorrow.

[There's another pause.] Does anyone know where the hospital is located?

--
[OOC: Jack Noir caught her unprepared and was completely gross in her general direction. Violence and eye gore warning for the linked thread.]

[ ♚ video ]

[ Why the long faces, People of Marina Nova? There is someone here who isn't as happy with this latest change in events but she was determined to do what she does best. Not only that, she is hoping that this would get the anger and frustration out of her system.

Sheryl Nome lives to sing --- and that moment she wanted to remind herself of the life she chose to live.

She was the Galaxy Fairy ... no matter what galaxy she is taken to.

The feeds start with a shaky view of the stage. It was the stage from the amphi-theatre. Moments later, Sheryl comes out and wearing an all too sexy bunny outfit. She turns to the camera and gives a coquettish smile and wink ... but when the camera gave another shake again, she frowned at the person behind the camera. ]

Hold still, Gino ...

[ Her Galaxy Fairy persona returned though as music began to play and she proceeded to dance. ]

EVERYONE, LISTEN TO MY SONG!


I am your white bunny
Jumping and diving in an innocent glide
The Milky Way spills in the galaxy
Hey, I want to eat that candy star

I am your black bunny
A rowdy sexy flag
If I show you my hip line it’s dangerous
At my wink signal, dive into my cleavage

Pure heart, go and violate my exposed skin
To the point that you can not be reborn
If you intensely struggle for it
The crying angel is, watch out, a demon

[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!))

Hello, everyone!

[No, he doesn't realize he's shouting.]

Those loud speakers are really loud, huh?

[He's on the floating island, so those speakers were really close to him.]

Does anyone have a really long ladder?

[Because there's no way down.]

[You're in a new prison and free!

Well, free to look around anyway. Maybe you'll pick your pet up from the pet cafe or search the pile for your personal items before someone else gets to them first. You could be inspecting the barrier around sector six. Did you just hear something scratching it from the other side? Maybe you want to find the nearest clothing store and upgrade from prisoner-chic to something a little more you. Maybe you appeared somewhere awkward and could use a hand with that. It could be you're just wandering around, familiarizing yourself with the new space.

Whatever it is, you're welcome to do it here.]