MarinaNova Asylum

Time seems to pass so slowly here. Perhaps it's due to the confined nature of the place. I'm used to roaming my larger expanses, after all.

I find I have a good deal of idle time on my hands. Would anyone have suggestions on how I can fix that?

I think it's a given that most of us hate it here. I know I do. [her tone turns coy, innocent, like how any girl her age would sound if she weren't a psychotic, murdering little she-devil.]

If you could, would you want to see your home once more? Even if it's only for a minute? Or...even if you have to give up something to see it?

[Garcia's been pretty much hiding out for a while now, working on coding and a few assorted projects, dealing with things. Hotch being here, then suddenly gone. Nothing too new that she's hunkered down in order to deal, but being afraid of the entire world she's living in and most everyone in it? Not her favorite state of being, as it turns out.]

How ever do people ever deal with being here? Just when it seems like things can't suck more, they somehow do. Seriously, how is everyone not completely nutso with just the sheer volume of suck that exists in this place?

...At least there's donuts, I guess. But that only makes up for fifteen percent of the crap that goes on here! Twenty, tops.


((OOC: for anyone that prefers to [action] she's at the Bakery in Sector 2!))

[ castiel is testing out his abilities! this means he is popping in and out all over the facility -- into the library, onto the speaker-island, into your bathroom while you're taking a shower, over your shoulder as you wait on those sciencey results -- you name it, cas is there! staring. watching. waiting.

he might even go so far as to bring you along elsewhere with him, just to see if he can! maybe he leaves you there, and maybe you get stuck via the facility's fun little prison-bar glitch. hopefully he doesn't forget you? ]

A question for people who've been around longer -- is there any precedent for this sort of thing happening? A system glitch followed by a whole herd of new people appearing with an incomplete welcome message -- or even none at all -- and spared from the tacky orange raiment that is usually so lovingly provided? If so, how'd that go before?

[The video opens on a smiling Hakkai, who is obviously out enjoying the weather. He's settled near what looks to be a pond, one hand dangling in the water.]

My. It's certainly noisy here today. I had no idea we were entertaining guests.

And here I thought this whole damn 'dimension hopping' bullshit was done and over with, and I gotta say I'm thankful for there being technology in a place like this. If I'm gonna have to stay here at least it's halfway decent, yeah? No?

With my luck I'm dead wrong on that point.

So let's here it. Give me the lowdown.

Name's Duo, by the way.

[Video]
[Pepper may be wearing orange, which is clashing horribly with her hair, but she's done the best she can with what she has. She's composed, hiding any sort of turmoil underneath the unruffled exterior.]

Good afternoon. I appear to have been taken to this place which I'm told is a prison under an ocean? I'm sure this is all a big misunderstanding and frankly I'm still not sure I should believe what I'm told.

[a tight smile, not reaching her eyes]

A few things to ask while I have your attention. Would anyone be familiar with Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Thor, Natasha Romanoff, or Clint Barton? I'm particularly interested in Tony Stark's whereabouts, if he's here. And finally, I would like confirmation on what I heard in that oh so informative 'welcome message' and if anyone at all has up to date information?

[ It's after nightfall when he makes his first transmission, screen mostly dark save for the glowing cherry of a lit cigarette and whatever small light that spills in over the edge of the marble stone. It's enough to catch slicked back blond hair, the vague outline of a muscular man in his mid-twenties.

No jumpsuit here. He took care of that as soon as he realized the sun wasn't trying to set him on fire. ]

Gotta say… I'm not much liking this trend of bein' whisked away to some secret location without my say-so. Sure, some blokes might find it romantic and spontaneous, but I've always been a big fan of bein' the one to do th' whiskin'. Makes me feel all manly inside.

Nice digs you got here, by the way. All bottom of the ocean… beats a sardine can any day. I mean, you can say a lot about the nazis but they sure didn't put any bowling alleys in their submarines. [ He pauses to take a drag, face temporarily lit up by the embers. As human as they come, this one. ] Plenty of rations though… and that's another thing you got right about this place. Plenty of little Happy Meals on legs, just walkin' around… warms the cockles of your heart, really.

So… I only got one question. [ Another drag, the smoke released through a toothy grin.] Who do you kill for fun around here?


[ ACTION ]

[ After making the transmission (and making sure for at least the fifth time that he can slip back into game face again) Spike leaves his comfortable spot in Sector 5 to wander night-time Marina. Or rather, prowl because this vampire hasn't eaten since before the Initiative snatched him up and after that whole debacle he's not too keen on resorting to blood bags just to ease his hunger. Oh no, something hot and fresh would be so much better... ]


((OOC: First bite has already been promised to Miranda, but he does have a handy dandy permissions post for other bite and/or punching related inquiries! ))

[ he's looking a bit worse for the wear.

it's been four days, and he's been stockpiling spice -- ingesting only the smallest amount he can get away with in order to build up a cache in his apartment, but that is starting to take its toll on him. at the moment, he is stretched out on his back in bed with the lights off and the blinds closed, though some daylight still filters in. in this lighting, his eyes look even more like holes than usual, shadowed and nearly-black. ]

How dull this place is!

[ it's not that he misses giedi prime, particularly -- not having to deal with the baron or his nephews has actually done quite a lot for his temperament -- but the fact that he no longer has limitless doses of spice at his disposal is getting to him. not having anything to kill, as well -- but that fight the other day... he can't help but smirk at the memory. a trained eye might notice fading bruises on his neck and face from that particular spectacle. languidly, sleepily, he turns onto his side. ]

Between the thinking machines and you all, my fellow inmates, I'm afraid I find myself rather unimpressed. [ he sits up, stretches. ] I'd expected more violence from a prison. This is really more of a third-rate pleasure resort, though with tragically limited amenities -- and equally tragic company. [ he shrugs as he stands and leaves the bedroom, crossing through the rest of his darkened apartment and opening the door. ]

Are any of you familiar with administering poison? There are so very many ways to go about it. I, myself, prefer subtlety: fast-acting and long-lasting, yet symptomless -- but that isn't to say that I don't appreciate a dash of poison on a blade now and then to boil the blood... Ah, but I digress.

[ he steps out into the hall, chuckling as he closes the door securely. he's on his way to the hospital, and perhaps to roam about the sectors looking for materials that he might be able to fashion a weapon with, or perhaps a few chemicals to keep around the apartment for delicious deadly cocktail mixing. be my guest and run into him anywhere -- in sector 2, 5, or even right here outside his door, if any neighbors happen to stroll by. ]

[Video]

[Oh look, it's a Robin hanging out in the library. How unexpected.]

Acumen, noun: "the ability to make good judgements and quick decisions." Sentience, noun: "having the quality of being sentient." Conscienti, Latin: the root word of "conscientiousness." Veridical, adjective: "Truthfulness, seeing reality for what it is."

Has anyone else ever wondered about the wardens' names? I mean, whoever made these prisons could've named them Bob or Hal or anything else. It wouldn't make a difference in the end. But there's something about the wardens' names that makes me feel like maybe there's more to it. Hints about the wardens' programming? Their way of thinking? I can't put my finger on it but it feels important.

Speaking of important, am I the only one mildly alarmed by the loud scratching coming from that walled-off sector? Because it doesn't exactly sound like it's holding back an army of adorable, cuddly puppies.


[Private video + action for the Sector 4 patrol team]

Hey, guys. It's time for our first team meeting. I'll be at the Athletic Complex in Sector 1 in two hours; think you guys can be there by then?

[Whenever the team shows up, Robin will be there as promised! It looks like he's setting up for sparring but there's also a cluster of chairs-- so it'll be a meeting and a teambuilding exercise.]

[ hello Marina, please say hello to a very distraught looking robot on your video feed. A very distraught, disgusted, and loud robot on your video feed ]

You... You're all serious about this?!!?

Now, now you're tellin' me, that you, as in those who ... alright fine you all know who I'm talkin' to, you know, deep inside of yer hearts, pumpin' blood throughout your squishy little bodies. You know exactly who you are and... and you should be ashamed of yourselves considerin' the fact... that... that yer-- you're tellin' me that you... you put those... THERE?!

There.... there isn't a need why... why would you ever consider that... in... your... y.. I don't even want to think about it. You're serious about this then? Why would you even want to do that those... those don't belong there nothing belongs there...

You're... You're all disgusting!!

Welcome to Day 176 of the first generation. The weather will be just like yesterday's. Hopefully you haven't forgotten what it was like already.

You have been some very, very naughty criminals. We bring you to an even more posh prison, and you practically trip over yourselves to gouge each other's eyes out. How crude. We may have to offer an eye patch hut at this point.

The following inmates have been found guilty of breaking facility rules and full details of their punishments are being transmitted to their devices.

Jack Noir: Assault
Prospitian Monarch: Injury
Cain: Assault and attempted murder, destruction of property, and injury
Rion Steiner: Assault and injury
Dirk Strider: Attempted robot damage
Vriska Serket: Destruction of property

For those of you who can keep your hands to yourselves you may enjoy a little treat in sector 0 today. There will be a photo booth open for public use for those of you who are sentimental.

Requested items for Elena Gilbert, Bruce Banner, Atton Rand are now available for pick up at the kiosk. Nothing terribly interesting among them I'm afraid.

(OOC: Kiosk requests will be handled by Veridical unless otherwise requested.)

I grow weary of this. [This is coming from the tall, muscular blond who has been throwing himself at the dome walls in utter fury for the past ten minutes. He is powerless again, it seems, entirely mortal, clothed in this strange, orange garb, and without Mjolnir. What he does not understand is why his hammer does not return to him, no matter how hard he calls to it. Has he not continued to prove that he is worthy of its power? And what of Loki, and the Tesseract?]

[His brows are furrowed, and though he isn’t aware of it, Thor looks utterly savage in that moment.] Come. Show yourselves. I am tired of these games. [Being locked in this place like an animal, suddenly fragile and mortal once more. Even shouting to Odin had done no good. Either his father was ignoring him, or…]

[No. He did not want to think about what else could possibly be happening. He needed to get out, and quickly. Loki couldn’t possibly be behind this after the beating he had taken.]

[Gravity. There was gravity. This was fantastic beyond any sort doubt. There was no way that this wasn't a fantastic thing. So much time spent floating around aimlessly, having nothing to do but count the particles flying past and listen to the endless rambling of that space obsessed sphere. Finally he was somewhere. He didn't know where he was, but at least he was somewhere.]

Hello?

[his voice gets more excited]

Is anyone there? Fantastic place you got here, whoever I'm talking to... I just uh, ah, er, Just wanted to tell you that I'm here, on the floor. Completely unattached and disoriented from any sort of locomotion. Yup, just sittin' 'ere. On the floor. Waiting... Waiting.

...

Could... could someone come over here and pick me up?

I haven't the slightest idea where I am, but there's, huh. Hm. A floor. That should be a good enough starting point.