[the breath whooshes out of Roxas audibly as the video clicks on. he's on top of a low building, maybe three stories tall, outside the dome, and he directs the video to look out over an almost completely unfamiliar landscape, piled so high with unbroken white snow that it seems barren and surreal]

It is really cold out here. Look at all that snow.

[he directs the video down again. --directly underneath his position, there's a big hole in the snow, showing how deep it is]

It's taller than I am. [wryly, reaching down to brush it off his black leather coat] I was going to offer to get anything anyone needs from their place, but I'm not sure I could find it in -- this.

But I'm glad I got to take a picture of it. [so that he can keep the memory of this, even if he doesn't remember]

I've been taking a lot of pictures lately... and I was wondering if anyone would be interested in teaching a class or joining a club about photography. [looking into the video again now, smiling a bit] What do you guys think?


((ooc: Roxas is going to bamf back inside in a few moments, so if you want action for some reason, just say so in the header))

[ Those accustomed to a busy, if not hectic schedule such as Principal Lee should be kept occupied, lest their evil start showing. Ominously dark auras are unsightly and not pleasing to the Master and so he must find himself something to do and to share to keep said crazy evil in check. ]

Good day to you, Marina. If some of you may recall the last time I have addressed the network, I have spoken of culinary applications of flowers.

I have personally undertaken experiments since then and today, for those still interested, I would like to share the recipe I am following. [ And modified. ]

For those who would like to join me in passing time, please head to the Shelter Kitchen -- [ in such-such floor ] and I will be more than glad to share what I know.

Thank you very much for your time.


(( OOC: Threadjacking/mingling is welcome! ))
 

[The sound of a wet thump begins the video, turned on as its owner's head hits the ground hard. Kisame lays crumpled at the foot of the Guardian Sapling, clothing torn to shreds and clinging to him only by virtue of being soaked to the skin and covered with blood. His eyes are feverishly bright, wide and blazing with a triumphantly manic energy, sharp teeth bared in a feral, almost psychotic grin as bloody bile bubbles out between them with each breath.

For several long minutes, he simply lies where he's fallen, evidently content simply to wait. It's only when there's no fresh pain, no gore-darkened water seething with sharks, no shouting Konoha-nin that he's snapped out of his daze, that he even realizes that something is wrong. He slowly lifts a hand to touch his stomach and chest, probing for injury; his fingers skim over nothing but thick, jagged crescents of scar tissue, looking like nothing so much as though he'd been surrounded from every which way, torn apart, and eaten alive. The wounds should obviously have been more than fatal, nothing that could possibly have been survived to leave such marks, even with Samehada's help.

Even so, even as brutalized as he looks now, there isn't a single fresh scratch on him. Kisame lifts a shaking hand to scrub his eyes clear and take a good look around, obviously bewildered to the point of near-incomprehension.]

What.....?

[Sector 5 sees a lot of people over the course of a day. Many live there in houses or apartment complexes; many come there to shop for food or clothing; many come there to relax and have a meal; some even come for the entertainments offered by the bowling alley, the ice rink, or the Devil's Compass.]

[Everyone who might have passed through Sector 5 today is invited to thread out a chance encounter here, or a date, or a gathering of friends. Just tell everyone where your character is and what they're doing, and go!]

[Ritsuka offers the video a smile, his small body hidden under many layers of thick winter clothes. He's not wearing a hat, though, since it tickles his ears. He's outside in the park in Sector 4, already knee-deep in snow.]

Yuta! Grab your coat and come meet me in the park. I'll start working on a snowman until you get here.

[He hasn't forgotten his promise to play in the snow with Yuta, though if anyone else should pass by, they're welcome to help build a snow family with him.]

[At first, it's not a very impressive broadcast - at least it's quiet, though, so no one will be woken up. The camera shakes and jiggles as though being held loosely in a hand, then finally settles on a view of a rather plain shelter room. Someone has obviously forgotten to turn off the video function after talking to somebody, then taken their communicator off and set it aside.

So, an empty, undecorated shelter room - or is it empty? No, after a moment, a rabbit with mottled fur hops into frame. He stands up on his haunches and sniffs the air; then, for those who have stuck around this long, the show really begins.

He starts leaping into the air and twisting in half-circles, for no apparent reason other than an excess of either happiness or energy. Every now and then he'll stop to sniff at something or dig in the rug, but then he starts jumping again, always turning sharply in the air before landing.

Until - ah! Now he's noticed the communicator. He hops up onto the bed, and the screen is immediately full of twitching rabbit nose. Someone's headset is going to get very badly chewed if he doesn't return soon.]

[ oh my God, it's a tiny toy car coming full speed ahead towards the camera, get in the ca --

- that won't save you.

The toy car connects, lighting up in a symphony of very lovely & soothing sounds, while the device's sensors also give out a short 'biiiip.'

The car goes back... then bumps into the camera again. Back. Bump. Lights and noises. Back. Bump. Lights and noises. Back. Bu - ]

They are greeting one another.

[ Yes, there was a young man with the car's remote somewhere in the background. And yes, he is beaming with paternal pride, because lo and behold, his firstborn toy car is making friends.

This assault on the camera's dignity goes on undeterred for yet another five minutes, until one of the poor robots on duty gets in the car's way. Something about the sight of the droid seems to relieve Rai of his humour. ]

...you are not worthwhile.

[ but that moment is gone, the toy car finally steers, and it seems to be up and away, off to find new prey! ]



[ ooc: if you're aiming for action, feel free to have the Tiny Toy Car of DOOM [TM] run into your character. Or there's always Rai! XD ]

[ Seira barely opens her eyes to unfamiliar territory before a message begins to echo in her ear. Certain words stand out to her -- criminal, warden, facility...? Dome? She sits up and looks around at her surroundings -- distinctly not the same surroundings she fell asleep with, she is certain. And there's a ball and chain on her foot? She lifts her foot to examine it, as if that will help -- but of course it doesn't, so she rests her foot again... What is going on? The message ends, and she feels at the communicator on her ear. She isn't exactly sure what to do, and she doesn't see anyone around... ]

Hello?

[ She pauses a moment before trying to focus her mind -- perhaps Regis is nearby? Or the children? Rai, or Frankenstein? Her head is swimming too much for her to currently focus well enough. She sighs. Again her hand finds the communicator on her ear, and she takes it off to look at it. Examining it, unfortunately, doesn't help her understand what it is or what is going on... Perhaps, if she puts it back on, she could try... talking to 'Acumen'? Hmm... She puts it on and looks about again to be sure that no one is around whom she could just ask directly... She feels a bit silly talking to something or someone she isn't even sure is there anymore, but... well, what else can she do? ]

'Acumen'... Where am I?

Look, all I’m saying is-- [The big man cuts off abruptly, placing a hand to his head and looking dazed.] Where the hell am I? [And by that, he means, why isn’t he in a hospital gurney with his life in the questionable hands of Rai and Blondie?]

[He touches his own chest for a moment, and to his surprise, his wound seems to be healed. Roxas really did a number on him—he’ll have to thank the kid again.]

Look, where is everyone? This ain’t funny. [He doesn’t remember that time has passed at all. More memory nuking, hooray!]

[Oh hey, it's this guy.]

[York is seated at a desk in an apartment, a vaguely amused look on his face. He appears to be wearing a brand new suit, looking sharp as a tack, if a little too big in the shoulders. Oh, well. He's as sincere and conversational as you can possibly be about what he's about to say.]

This morning's prank was absolutely perfect! Nothing like waking up in the wrong bed to keep you on your toes. I'd like to shake the hand of whomever put that one together. If I need to shake a slimy flipper or a robotic grasping tool, I'll be glad to do that, too.

Reminds me of my high school days... not that I or anyone I knew had the ability to teleport people around. Too bad, really.

By the way, I'd like to talk to someone about the Defense Force. Or several someones. I'm not exactly short on time, unless someone would like to tailor my new suits for me. [This is not a joke. Suits are a very important matter.]

Yeah, I'm not buying into the whole "inmate" thing, no matter what this stupid computer says. I'm not a criminal and I'm willing to bet there are a ton of people here that this things's wrongly accused, too.

[ yukari's muttering to herself, wandering around one of the hallways and seemingly completely wrapped up in whatever it is she's doing. which ... is getting lost. at least it's not that dark any more; darkness is a yukari's worst enemy, don't you know? she could be down by the cafeteria, or the library, but she'll basically be wandering around all day, so feel free to have your characters bump into her at any time in any place because her insatiable curiosity is going to drag her around everywhere. especially the shopping area. ]

Hey, so—What's the deal with this "Sentience" thing, huh? What kind of mistakes did it make? [ there's a pause as she leaps out of the path of one of the bots, a curious expression on her face. ] Ugh, and what's with all the robots? This place doesn't function like any prison I've ever heard of. This seems more like... I dunno, some kind of weird vacation facility or something. Seriously, what kind of prison has a dance club?


( ooc: oh my god this is so, so so so so so so late. i got hit with a monstrous sinus infection literally the DAY after i ooc intro'd that knocked me flat on my ass, and since then i've just been laying around being pathetic. but now that i feel a lot better, let's do this thing!!! *w*9 )

[If you want near the recreation center, or the training halls that evening you might here the sound of crashing, breaking--animalistic growls of frustrations. More beast than man.

You might see the punching bag go flying or the dummy getting splintered into chips of wood. The equipment is meant to withstand the force of someone has angry--hurt, afraid--as M-21 is at that moment. He had searched, called, and hunted down all the leads he could find, but the fact he had to face.

M-24 was gone. Again.

De--

--He punches the bag hard enough it cracks the wall behind it. Stares for a few seconds, almost as if he doesn't even notice the damage. He looks down and notices that without even trying...his hands have changed...thick fur up to his elbows, sharp claws curling to dig into his own palms as he clenches them. That hasn't happened subconsciously in a long time. He's not controlling himself.]

...You damn idiot.

[He doesn't know who he's saying it to.]

[ Before one even arrives into the kitchen, they will be met with the aromas of something grainy and nutty, then sweet and milky, enveloped with the distinct scent of strong, freshly-brewed coffee.

For those who know Sasha, making too much food is a habit she still has to shake off. But they also know that she is more than willing to share.

And whether you are a familiar face or a new one, you will be greeted with a warm smile and a bright -- ]

Good morning! Would you like some breakfast?


---------- Video -----------

[ And thinking that perhaps more can benefit from a warm meal to start the day, she switches on her video feed -- ]

Good morning, Marina! I have made some breakfast. Would you like to join me?

[ And there is a view of freshly baked bread and something that resembles pies -- for breakfast, yes. ]
 

[He's not used to sleeping so much, but what else is he supposed to do in a hospital? Unfortunately, the big man has quickly gotten restless and irritable from so much inactivity. From the sounds of it, there was even some big event of some sort last night, and he hadn't even gotten to lurk around the edges to check it out.]

Oy. Someone come help me break out of this place, and I'll make it worth your while. [He's being totally serious, too. He thinks he's going to lose his mind if he has to stay in this bed another day. His chest has to be almost healed by now, right?]

Look, I just need someone to get me past these goddamn robots, and that's it. [Walking still hurts, but if he takes it slow and steady, it'll be fine. Trust him, he has a plan. Sort of.]

Upon entering Sector 4, the very large tent that stands framed by the beach is quickly noticeable. Closer, one can see colors dancing upon the white sheets, like opalesque spires under the moving onyx sky. As you enter one of the wings of the tents, grass give way to wooden flooring, and chains of white blossoms and gold ribbons line the sides. The open dance floor in the center bids one to look up to whimsical white-gold lamps, balls of light dancing in seas of violet, blue, green and pink organza. The fabrics fall down pillars adorned with leaves and flowers. Tables set in white and gold with jewel toned flowers sit at the four wings surrounding the dance floor.

... but it is far too early to take a seat. Smile and greet your fellow attendee, take the hand of a friend, and dance to the music.



There are large tables with finger foods and punch (not spiked -- save it for the after-party!), and very little space near the walls (sorry, wallflowers! You won't get away so easily. ♥ )  After a large number of people are gathered together, Jeanne stands up on the small stage set to the side of the dance floor and taps on the microphone to get everyone's attention...



OOC STUFF
+ Info post / thread index (please read this first!)
+ Jeanne's greeting speech!
+ Prom King and Queen announcement. (Spoiler: It's Euphie and Kanda.)

[Ahem, ahem. Please allow this white-haired NOT!TWILIGHT sparklyvampire noble to delicately clear his throat and gaze at the communication device with the intensity of...something really. Intense. He isn't sulking, we should make this clear at the outset. Nor is he on the verge of a minor temper tantrum. Don't be ridiculous.]

If- [FROOOOOWN] If my transgressions are indeed worthy of lifelong imprisonment, I shall answer for them without complaint, as is befitting a noble. What's done is done, and I stand by my actions. [Pause. Even breaths!] I do, however, object to the manner in which my sentence was passed, behind closed doors and behind my back. At least have the decency to convict me while I am present at the trial.

[To add insult to injury, these communicators are absolutely HIDEOUS. But remember, kiddies, he's not having a tantrum. His eyebrow is twitching a little, though. Just a little.]

Barbaric.

[The frown could almost be a scowl now.]

I do hope you haven't detained Seira in a similar fashion.

----- [ Open ] -----

[ Remember this brightly smiling face, Marina? This man is currently surrounded by greenery, long hair pulled back in a ponytail and is holding a pair of pruning scissors. ]

Roses, for all their beauty, are known to be quite the fussy plants! Constant pruning is required, for the leaves tend to take away nutrients that would otherwise be channeled towards healthy blossoms.

[ Talking to himself? Maybe. Until he looks to the camera~ ]

Roses are also versatile plants, for not only their perfume nor their appearance make most of their charm, but their taste as well. They make the interesting addition to tea, roast birds and pastries.

So, tell me Marina, are there unique recipes from your home that you might want to share? Perhaps those tuning in to this feed might pick up something new as well!


----- [ Private to Rai and M-21 ] -----

[ Now he has the welcome basket -- the treats, the pamphlet and brochures, and other supplies. Along with the basket came a new accessory. And so as promptly and sharply as he can, albeit void of any humor -- ]

Master, M-21.

I have been restrained. I will be late for dinner.
 

[When he finally cracks his eyes open, he doesn't recognize the ceiling he’s staring up at. For one, heart-stopping moment, he’s deathly afraid that he’s back in the Organization, being patched up for some ungodly reason. Or, worse, being experimented on yet again. The last thing he remembers is telling M-21 that he has to live, for all of their sake.]

[The message is something he takes in more slowly, and when he finally finishes reading, a sardonic grin curls at his lips.]

So even guys like me can get a second chance… [He laughs, but that makes his chest hurt, so he shuts up pretty quickly. He grudgingly shifts a hand to feel the bandages that have been wrapped there. So they’d saved his life, when he was supposed to die. He isn’t sure how he feels about it. Hell. As long as M-21 is safe. As long as he’s free. Really, isn’t that all that matters?]

That’s some technology, helping to patch up a broken heart… literally. [Goddamn it, he really had to stop chuckling. It felt like someone was taking a hammer to his ribs...]

((OOC: M-24 is in the hospital! He is restrained, but he probably needs anywhere from one to three days to fully recover. Heart punctures are terrible.))

Uh, hey... [everybody.] Slow night at the [Pause, because why does he work here again?] Devil's Compass. So, all drinks half off. [Weak laughter. It's funny because everything is free and, okay, maybe it's not that funny.] We're in Sector 5. Just look for the sign.

Oh, right. It's a bar in case you weren't familiar.

Dean, Cas, you know where it is. [Hint. Hint. Nudge. Nudge. There are things to talk about. Lots of things.]

[Reluctantly, Zelgadis decides at the last moment to make this request via video. Perhaps if people can tell that he is in desperate need, they will be more likely to come forward. He can't, however, manage to remove his mask or hood, and so all you'll see under the beige swaths of cloth is a suspiciously shiny patch of lavender hair and two dark eyes that have excessively dark patches around them.]

I am in need of some assistance from anyone who is versed in healing or reversal magic, or perhaps advanced alchemy. [pausing, then as an afterthought] Or anyone who has successfully performed an augmentation of a human body.


((OOC: Anyone and everyone is welcome to answer and offer assistance if possible! However, please please be aware that Zelgadis is NOT able to be cured, canonically (hence the journal!), so all attempts must fail -- but I will totally work with you on it! My contact info is on the top post in his journal for OOC plotting~))