[he's been sitting in the library, orienting himself; he thinks he's gotten a good grasp on the situation and that it's safe to use his communicator to chat. Charles is meandering through the library as best he can with his restraint on, observing the stacks]

From the Ivy League to the CIA to the big house. [a little laugh] It's quite an unexpected leap. I have to say this reading selection is a trifle lacking, but I suppose that's to be expected... Other than the material in my welcome basket, of course! That was quite appreciated. I love the sunglasses, they're a nice touch.

[--he is more than a little disoriented with his telepathy sealed off like this; things he could normally have picked up in seconds are mystifying him. but even though the welcome pamphlet talked about "powers", he's not comfortable just casually talking about that in public. he mulls over how to put this into words, and finally asks cheerfully]

So, come and tell me. Who else is, or was, excited by all this far-out technology? I can't be the only one who was astonished to see half a dozen computers in this library, each of them small enough to fit in my arms! And these communicators, they're amazing, just -- really amazing.

Thanks, I guess, to everyone who helped me out when I first got here. This isn't really what I pictured prison to be like.

[And with that out of the way - ]

Does anyone know anything useful about trap-making? --Hypothetically, of course.

[He's the guy man with the plan.]

Alright, you lovely ladies! [ and Judith especially if she's listening ] Who's going to be my date for the movies tonight? I'm in the mood for a flick.

[Have a dramatically loud whipcrack, Marina! Fuuma is in the park, showing off just the tiniest bit. He loops the whip back up easily, gathering it around his wrist. It's long and slim, carefully hand-woven.]

--I think I owe someone lessons~?

Oh, and -- where's that fellow who passed out yesterday, while I'm at it? Nena's unconscious friend.

[There's a rhythmic roaring and pounding in his head, the occasional whimpering sound, and a weird prickling in his back.]

[Cain groans and shifts, trying to push himself up from the... sand? His whole body feels like it weighs an extra hundred pounds, so he gives up and decides to just lay there for a minute longer. The time is better spent piecing together what brought him to this miserable place feeling as though a Leman Russ ran over him, then backed up and did it again for good measure. His mouth is dry and he feels wholly dehydrated, so he was probably drinking and was foolish and irresponsible about it. The roaring is the waves, which places him at the beach, so that means he was too drunk to even remember what he was up to. With a sense of dread and nausea, he realizes he should probably immediately apologize to everyone. After the world stops spinning and the sky stops being too bright. At least he didn't wake up in a puddle of his own vomit.]

[Eventually, once he feels like he's ready to face the music, he reaches up and smacks his communicator on.]

[Voice]
What the frak happened last night, and do I owe anyone an apology for it?

[While he waits for someone to respond, he decides to give moving around another go. It's only when he tries to push himself up again that he realizes the additional weight isn't a trick of his mind. Eridan is duct taped to his back.]

[That explains the whimpering and the prickly feeling, at least. Before he can summon up something approximating an appropriately loud reaction, however, Gaunt's voice chimes in close enough to be heard on the network, but out of Cain's field of vision.]

"Oh feth... has anyone seen my hat?"

--
((OOC: Gaunt might tag into unfiltered voice threads and can be directly addressed through the network! As stated in the plotting post, please feel free to troll them mercilessly, but check with us before assuming something actually happened.))

[the first thing to show up on the camera is a blond young man lying on the ground. he seems slightly distressed. the foot of a high-heeled boot pokes at his side, making him twitch a little, before the camera pans upwards to show Nena smiling, as sweet as could be.]

Okay so, I was talking to this guy, and he sorta died on me. Well, not completely, but he looks pretty close! Now, before anyone gets any ideas, I didn't do anything! At all! Got that?

[glares a good few seconds, then she's cheerful again.]

Anyway, if no one comes to claim him or whatever, I'm keeping him! [v-sign! you can't say she's not being fair!]

((ooc: the poor victim is the lovely, unfortunate, Guy Cecil ♥ !))

[ He's silent for a moment. This new memory -- no, it couldn't be a memory, but -- well, it came out of nowhere. Except that wasn't true, either. It came from somewhere in his brain, which meant either it was a real memory or a hallucination. A bad reaction from the stimulation, maybe made worse because of the vicodin? ]

Stop the carousel, Chase. Ate too much cotton candy and now it's time for little Timmy to get off and vomit.

[ And nothing happens. He's still hallucinating. Mmkay. ]

Hey. Moron. It's not working, as in, time to stop.

[ Inspecting the weird digital S&M mask he came equipped with now, as he continues to ramble in not so much a nervous way, but in order to walk himself through this bizarre occurrence of sci-fi and crime drama. ]

Yeah, yeah, I get it. Under the ocean minus the reggae and sexy redhead mermaid. Sounds like the opposite of fun. [ another brief pause, as he grunts and fails at trying to get up ] And where the hell is my cane?

[ after waking up in a koi pond, and then simply lying in it for long enough to guess what happened -- which didn't take very long, really; he doesn't remember said pond, but he recognizes the sky of the domed prison well enough -- Murata has begun to suspect Acumen doesn't like him.

oh well... he climbs out of the pond and drips on the grass for a moment before turning on his communicator. ]

[ voice ]

The koi pond is a very nice addition to things, I must say. Though I think the fish might be a little angry with me!

I think I should probably take a bath...

((ooc: Open for both voice and action tags!))

[ Greed’s bar seems to have been awarded its first bum, if looks can be anything to go by. The man drifts by the entrance, casually looking it up and down, his hands stuffed deep inside of his hoodie. His head is covered by a knit beanie, the only evidence of his face just a tuft of stubble. ]

[ A voice breaks through the Marina main broadcasting feed, casual even if his lips are hinting at a smirk ]

So what time does Happy Hour begin on induction day? I feel like there’s a missed opportunity for the proprietor here.

[ There's two reasons for being her: One, he needs a stiff drink, and besides this bar there is another club where there's something wholly unhuman serving the liquor. Two, a bar is a decent social scene. Perhaps he can get some answers as to what is going on and, this early, it's less likely that people are drunk quite yet. Maybe. God, is this place for real? He's been in some very strange situations before, but this definitely takes the cake. If he was ready to be thrown into prison before, this has shaken his views a little. ]

And yeah, that was an invitation for anyone else wanting to get an early start. Or for anyone wanting to come actually tend the bar. Much appreciated.

(( OOC: If your character recognizes Nick, please refrain from telling him Maya is still here. Edgeworth is ok because I don't think he'd be so discouraged from drinking if he found his former rival was out there. He got up a little later than Maya's broadcast - maybe you did as well? PS, he could be at the club if you'd rather be there. ))

Oh.







Shit.

[ look at this cute little guy, tinkering his way to your eyeballs with his newly-acquired, newly-fangled doo-hickey. he clearly has no fucking idea what he's doing or that you can even see him and his elaborate flail routine. all this muttering that you may think is addressed to you is actually addressed to himself. and the more and more he talks, the more and more you get the feeling that he's about to implode out of nerves. ]

This is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is shit. I've never gone prison-bad, I don't suit prison, look at my face, not even really fancy ones like this, I can't keep hold of the soap at the best of times, how can A-cumin expect me to deal with this and this stupid ball and its stupid chain friend.

Man. Sis'd be so disappointed in me.

Excuse me, ah - Marina. My name is Guy Cecil, I'm the attendant of Luke fon Fabre. [He's been awake for a little while and taken the opportunity to gauge the area, deciding it to be of reasonably little harm.] If anyone has seen him or knows where he is, please contact me as soon as possible -

[He's seen something.

The feed clicks off.

A few minutes later, it clicks back on, and his expression is wholly different -- animated instead of calm, excited rather than peaceable. He's also seized one of the drones by the arm attachment and is holding it up, impervious to its minute squirms.] This is amazing, is everyone seeing this!

[The drone tugs out of his grasp and goes back to picking up trash.

Guy coughs into his hand very pointedly.]

--As I was saying previously; anyone who knows of Luke fon Fabre, please contact me immediately regarding his whereabouts.

( ONE - OPEN )

( TWO - LIMITED-ISH BUT STILL OPEN )

((late, and tags will be slow. Do you hate me yet? I also need to latelate tag other peoples dream posts, because I'm annoying like that. Yeah, you hate me ♥))

[It's starting to get late. Allelujah doesn't usually go to sleep this early, but today he's pretty tired. Hallelujah's rather quiet, too… so he might as well go to bed.]

( Dream 1 )

( Dream 2 )

[[ooc; First dream is open to anyone who's got some CR with Allelujah! The second one is completely open.]]

[In a chilled but cozy hole-in-the-wall of a planetside tavern, the Valhallan 597th celebrates its latest victory.]

[Decorated officers, men and women alike, dominate the building as they carouse and joke, cheeks flushed red with the joy of another victory, as well as due to a fair amount of alcohol in their bloodstreams. Delicious food is plentiful, and whether you like to flirt or gamble, opportunities for both are abound.]

[In a fashionably late manner, Cain strides into the tavern, standing tall and proud with a goofy damn grin plastered on his face, wearing a fresh greatcoat and uniform. Right behind him, his rather malodorous and less-than-easy-on-the-eyes aide Jurgen slips inside. Fortunately, most people should be too drunk to care about his absurd body odor, or the skin diseases which are amazingly resistant to the finest medical technology the Imperium has to offer.]

[Gesturing over to the woman running the bar, who looks sufficiently impressed when she realizes who he is--the famous Commissar Ciaphas Cain, hero of the Imperium, admired and respected across the galaxy.]

Barkeep, a round for the finest men and women to have ever served in the Imperial Guard. It's on me. [Gathering up a waiting mug, he raises it and strikes an incredibly perfect dramatic pose, his voice booming with equal dramatic flare.]

A toast--to Valhalla! To the Emperor! [And amid the enthusiastic cheers, Cain chugs down the brew without stopping for a breath.]

--
((OOC: Eat, drink, and be merry! Everyone here is human, and either a citizen of the Imperium or a member of the Valhallan 597th! Don’t worry if you don’t know the canon; Cain’s subconscious will basically ignore any discrepancies.))

[After watering her tree and having breakfast, Nakama sets out for the clothing store. She's managed to pull together decent outfits for the past couple of days, but there's no denying that her wardrobe is mostly jeans and plain t-shirts, and that just doesn't cut it for her anymore. As self-conscious and reluctant to stand out as she is, she just feels like a girl with a boyfriend should try a little harder.

It never occurs to her, of course, that Ushiro apparently had no problem with her dressing like that when he fell for her.

Anyway, she's there at the dress rack, flipping aimlessly through sundresses with a frown on her face. Why are so many of them tank-top style? She doesn't like showing that much skin...]

[Around noon - video intended to be both voice and private, double-fail.]

[Nakama accidentally hits the video button instead of voice, and when her face appears, it's badly bruised and cut. The worst of the bruising is around her eye and throat.]

Ushiro... could you feed Miko for me today? I dunno when I'll be home.

((ooc: all those who wanted to make over Nakama, step right up! Nena thread will be retconned to be last chronologically.))

[Calling all lllllladies! And you other people too. Timcanpy is a magical golem belonging to one Allen Walker and created by one Cross Marian and he has been sulking for a while now! His boy has a new best friend (man's best friend, in fact) and there is only so much clinging to Cross that a golem can do. Plus, new people have arrived, and that is exciting. Tim wants to meet all those new people.]

[So here is your chance to strike up a rapport with a little animated gold ball with wings! Timcanpy likes the ladies best, but he will accept petting, food, and attention from just about anyone.]

[GO.]

[Anew laughs as her blue haro rolls around in front of her on the grass. Its eyes blink, but it doesn't say much yet. It bumps into her pet giza rabbit which looks momentarily annoyed before Anew picks up the haro and moves it away.]

I think it's time you had a name, little guy.

[She looks at the camera, tucking some lavender hair behind her ear as she shyly addresses everyone:]

Does anyone have any good ideas for his name?

[ It’s getting to be later in the evening, and for once, he’s considering sleep. There are no nicotine patches to keep him occupied, and the world right now is dull, dull, dull. He needs something stimulating, and the communicator is right there... Normally, he’s not given to speaking to people unless they have information. This is no exception. ]

[ Those listening to the open feed will hear the dark voice pouring through their headset, smokey and slow with the weight of his dilemma. ]

Good evening, Marina Asylum.

Before you ask, yes, I am one of those new inmates assimilated into the fold by your monotonous overlord. However, I’m not interested in preaching my woes of incarceration. I am comfortable with the charges that have been weighed against me and regret nothing.

My name is Sherlock Holmes.

I’ve spent the day exploring your facilities. Anthrax Island, indeed. However, what I’ve seen of you brings questions to mind, those of which I would like to bring to your attention.

( Marina's Criminal Survey )

[Anyone walking through the park will see Road sitting cross-legged on the floor, cutting open a blood pack. There's a large sheet of white construction paper on the floor, already spattered with blood. She drops the scissors carelessly onto the paper, before dipping her fingers into the packet. She frowns and flicks the blood off her fingers, getting spots on her blue dress.]

I hate it when it's cold. Blood's best when it's warm. [She pulls a little put-upon sigh, before returning to her art.]

[the best art ♥]

[They released him from the hospital, and he took that opportunity to vanish before he could allow himself to dwell on what had happened. 'Avoid the robots', she'd said. Done and done. It was dark out now, and though there was ample opportunity for him to seek out his brother once more--well, Sasuke stayed away.]

[He'd just stood there. He'd taken the blow, and Sasuke... had stopped. He could have killed him, twisted the blade about and done as much damage as possible, but he'd been so shocked that he hadn't done anything. Hadn't done anything but fail, anyway.]

[The boy was standing in front of the tombstones, not really seeing them, but imagining they bore the names of his family, nonetheless. He had failed his clan. He'd failed himself. Itachi had somehow known--and the thought of that was enough to make a lump in his throat that he hadn't felt in nearly five years.]


((OOC: Tragic tsun!princess, coming right up. His left wrist is a little swollen, and idk how talkative he'll be, but here he is!))