[Accidental ? Video] [Open]
03 October 2011 at 08:27 pm
[It's an eye. Well, to be exact, the ey sande belongs to a person holding communicator a little too close to their face. After a moment, they pull away to reveal a pink haired child, between the age of six and ten, staring the screen with a confused expression.]

What is this thing? [The little girl gives the communicator an inquisitive look before poking at it a few times. Suddenly, everything seems to be shaking before it stops as soon as it begins. There is a frown on the little girl's face that slowly turns into a bright and happy smile]

Oh, I get it! It's a communicator! [She nods to herself, happy with the conclusion] Though, it's not as pretty like the one I have. [A rustle of clothing is heard and a close up of the child's sleeve] Bleh! It's not tasty like mine either. [Her face is scrunched up into a look of disgust]

Oh, I guess it's recording, right? Hi everyone! My name is Yachiru Kusajishi. This place is really weird and strange. I dunno why they keep saying this weird stuff about trespassing, fish and stealing. I didn't eat or steal Byakushi's fish! I just borrowed some of them and gave them to Ukki since he seemed sad about not having nice fishies like Byakushi.

Has anyone seen my Ken-chan? We're supposed to being doing something together, but I think he got lost. He's really big, really strong and sorta scary looking! I don't think he looks that scary, but lots of other people think that. Ne, if anyone sees him, tell him I'm looking for him, okay? Oh, I guess if you see a funny looking bald guy and a a pretty guy with a feather on his face tell me! Just don't look at Baldy head too long, cuz his head is very shiny and you could go blind!
[ video / open ]
12 September 2011 at 05:04 pm
[ oh, hello, Marina. someone looks like she's just waking up -- her hair is just tousled enough and the button-down shirt is just unbuttoned enough that this video may or may not have been staged. either way, she yawns and stretches and rubs her eyes, and then gives the camera a little smirk. ]

I hear there's a dance-thing tonight. Anyone out there not have a date yet?

[ and here's another yawn -- more genuine this time ]

And who do I talk to about working at that bar? The one over in sector five?
11 September 2011 at 03:38 pm
[It's late at night, which is exactly what Sentience wanted before making a post like this.]

The Engineers do not take anything seriously. That's simply the way they are; they have a tendency -- not a personal tendency, but a racial tendency, wired into their brain functioning -- to laugh at painful or difficult topics, to treat them lightly.

But even taking cultural differences into account, it is... cruel, isn't it? To take out their boredom on the people here. This is supposed to be a place where criminals can live out their sentences in peace. Everyone here is a person, not... a toy.

[Sentience still seems troubled about the fourth wall.]
{ video }
06 September 2011 at 12:31 am
{ The face that appears is both unhappy and confused. }

So what's the deal with this place? Is this your idea of some kind of sick joke or something?

{ This is the opposite of okay with her. }

Look, if this is some way to… stop me from telling the world what we really are, it's not going to work. It's too late. You know who I am, right? That you can't stop me from finally telling the world who I am? Or in general, for that matter?

{ Just in case you don't, witness a setting down of the device, and Claire climbing something high, jumping off, and not dying. She's bloodied, and picks up the device again, but she's healing in the process and it's visible. ... Slower than what she's used to, though. Way slower. But still happening. }

I'm Claire Bennet. And that was attempt number… I don't even know anymore. I've lost count. Now tell me who you are, what you want, and how to get out of here. Let me go.

{ And... she's still healing. }

Why isn't it working like it usually does? What did you do to me? Somebody tell me what's going on.
[video/voice], [action: housemates] open! [backdated to afternoon.]
02 September 2011 at 07:32 pm
[Subaru is the familiar face on screen, in early afternoon. He fidgets, but overall, he's getting better at these public broadcasts. Behind him, there's the distinct appearance of a kitchen, and... some smoke. If you squint, you might be able to see what looks like a muffin pan, with lumps of something black and smoking inside of it. They might have been muffins. "Muffins" might be a stretch now, however.]

A-ah... I was just wondering, if... anyone had any idea how to... make desserts? E-easy ones? I, um, I tried to make blueberry muffins, but they... [he hesitates, flushing a little bit and casting a look behind him.] They didn't turn out. All four times. I don't want to waste anymore blueberries.

U-um, recipes with fruit are the best! [let's not talk about his fail anymore!] Thank you very much!

[and then he bows at the feed, before cutting it off. If you happen to be in the house at this time of day, you may have smelled the tell-tale smell of smoke (which can also be known as "Subaru tried to cook again"). Feel free to come investigate. At least he made sure to put the fire out before it destroyed the stove.]
22 August 2011 at 04:53 am
[It's late when he makes to the shelter and its kitchens. From far enough away it was faint, barely noticeable, but close up like this, the smell is strong. He hadn't realized he was following his nose until it led him to something that was pretty fucking disturbing even for him.

A fridge full of human blood? Really? Come on. As if this place wasn't bad-touching him enough, it was like it was going out of its way to fuck with him now.

He shuts the door to the fridge harder than he had intended, leaving a small dent into the handle. What kind of twisted place was this that there's a fridge of blood that smells fucking human? He has to get away from the temptation. The itchy, empty feeling is under his skin.]

This place has a fucked up sense of humor. All that's missing is pre-packaged altars on sale at the supermarket.

{OOC: You can catch an agitated AU!Dean inside the shelter or on his way out. Don't worry he won't bite!}
Location: Sector 0 / Midnight
[Video | Open]
20 August 2011 at 01:59 am
[Goodness knows the communicator has caused her no end of puzzlement. And the robots, with their scuttling about and their activity, have made her step back more than once. This is far too much for an 18th century girl to fully understand.

Still, she needs to ask someone and this communicator seems to be the right way so.]

If anyone sees an owl - a white barn owl, that is - could I trouble you to inform me? He should come to the name Osca. I'm afraid he's either gotten lost or... well, I suppose he might be held somewhere. Still, if anyone does see him, all I ask is that you let me know. If he is well, he will return to me in time.

[With that, she sighs out softly.]

At least this place starts with a map...
[ open | action | mingle ] - Shelter Kitchen/Dining Hall
15 August 2011 at 07:41 pm
[ cue one Break ]

[ cue one Break with cake ]

[ cue one Break WITHOUT cake what blasphemy ]

[ sadly, Break does not like this division of power even if he's not wearing a chain. Actually, scratch that. It's only what he deserves for having all the cake in the dome at his fingertips which, shortly, will be remedied. Leaning over, un-chained Break snags a dainty little sugar coated thing from the top of the pile. ]

[ Break (the one with cake), despite being blind, feels that sneaky, sneaky hand approaching his precious cake, and in a fit of rage jealousy POSSESSION reaches out his hand (the one not currently occupied with a frosting-covered fork) and flicks this intruder who has so callously tried to steal his cake. ]

Ah ah! Get your own cake.

[ unfortunately (for the both of them), Break's aim is a little off today and instead of hitting the cake thief, he instead ends up hitting the precious plate of cake, sending a fat slice of cake (chocolate with whipped cream frosting and dainty little strawberries) flying into the face of the nearest person ]

[ fjdkskakl ] What the hell are you doing?! [ Fou turns, wiping chocolate frosting off her face and looking more then a little pissed as she leans over to give the nearest Break a kick in the face. Unfortunately, Break's reflexes are superb and he more then easily steps to the side. It's too bad really. All that cake is flying through the air as Fou's foot lands on the table. Such a waste... ]

((ooc: Everyone is welcome to join in the cake fight! Or just be an innocent bystander. Mingle, threadjack, laugh at the mess... anything goes. purple = Marina's Break, blue = 4th Wall Break, Green = Fou ))
[ Video | Open ]
15 August 2011 at 07:23 pm
[ A middle-aged man in a fine, coal-black suit appears on the network stream, regarding the camera with the disdain of someone coming across something unsightly, like a rat or a mysterious stain on the upholstery. He's lounging in one of the library's many armchairs, one ankle settled across a knee. The tapping of the Marina brochure into the palm of his other hand is the only thing that betrays his fraying patience. For now. ]

Is this Limbo?

Did I take the wrong exit and end up in the bloody nursery?

This isn't quite the vacation home I was expecting, so how's this: first one to point me to the exit wins the mystery prize.

Let's not be shy, duckies. I'm on a bit of a schedule.

[ He hasn't felt quite this terrible in a while. Did someone have him gargle holy water before they dumped him here or what? Of course, he can't show that sort of weakness, so he cuts the broadcast as soon as the message is out. Stretching over the back of the armchair, he lets out a muffled groan of discontent. The hand he uses to massage his eyes and temples does little to comfort him. ]
[ voice ]
13 August 2011 at 11:25 am
[a low, male voice] It's getting real boring around here lately.

Even the new arrivals aren't as interesting as they used to be. All the flailing and all the distress has just sort of become quiet resignation! Boring, boring, boring. [a more tenor male voice]

[and finally, a sweet female voice] Oh, darlings, that's a little harsh. It's in the nature of such creatures to become more efficient and less chaotic, don't you think? They're beings of order.

They could be orderly in a more interesting manner, couldn't they? [this voice and the female voice giggle together, sharing in the joke]

Well, regardless, we've decided to spice things up a little.

Yes, that's right! We love some good chaos. And we had some good chaos a few months ago, so we thought -- let's do that again!

Do try to have a little bit of fun, won't you? Go with it, enjoy yourselves! Try to smile every now and again, it's healthy.

[there's a brief pause for the three of them to giggle together, before the sly tenor adds]

Oh, and-- Whining is dreadfully boring. We won't put up with any nonsense like that, so we'll entertain any questions or comments, but if you want to chat, please make it -- you know. Something interesting?
08 August 2011 at 08:24 pm
[The video switches on to show a grumpy and disdainful looking cat yawning as he stretches out, taking his time. He looks annoyed by the restraint, tail swishing back and forth abruptly. The bell on his strange collar chimes and it's a strangely resonating sound.]

Well, isn't this unexpected. If this is a prison, not only is the timing terrible but I would have thought that my collar would have been removed if I'm going to be restrained. I don't suppose anyone could oblige?

[He tucks his tail in close, looking bored now if not a bit irritated.]

But as long as I'm going to be stuck here, I don't suppose there is any decent fish to be had besides those swimming above out of reach?
[ Action | Closed ]
07 August 2011 at 10:43 pm
[ Sherlock Holmes does a good many things upon a whim. Including breaking into apartments at feeble hours of the bleeding morning.

Of course, if it weren't so atrociously simple to do, he might not have bothered.

After he's in, curiosity does urge him to go and look first at the dark-haired man asleep in one of the bedroom's two cots. The flashlight pans over the scruff-bound figure. Sherlock can tell he's a habitual runner as well as a drinker. His grooming is obviously something to be desired. This is the defense attorney? He can believe it, but the man must be comfortable with being out of practice in such a state.

He moves over to the other cot.

There's a tap of black leather across the arch of a pale cheek, and fluorescent light warming the back of the former prosecutor's neck. Sherlock has dug one of his gloves out of his pockets while keeping the flashlight tucked under an arm. ]


[ Tap tap. ]
[Voice | Action | Open]
25 July 2011 at 03:18 pm
[Today she begins her work - she's got a large hand-lettered sign (MISSING PERSONS) and her first list of the missing, so she heads to the shelter entrance and pins up both. Then she turns on the voice function, putting on her best Official Voice.]

Hi, everyone, this is Mako Nakarai. I wanted to let you all know that, starting today, lists of people recently missing from the dome are going to be posted in the shelter entrance every morning. There's a big sign overtop, so you know where to look... or where not to look. [Since Acumen was so sticky about that point.] Go ahead and ask if you have any questions, or even suggestions like a better spot to put it or anything like that. I... I hope this'll help, even a little.

[Then she switches to private:]

Mitsuru? I got some information about doing the lists that you should probably know. Are you available right now?

((ooc: please note that names will appear on the list the day after the person disappears. you can find her in the shelter or call her on the network!))
[action | open]
07 July 2011 at 02:00 am
[His morning had been a less than amusing one. From the new freaks in the prison to Wright stealing his communicator--more like confiscating it, as if he were a child--well, Miles had had enough. You can find him in the coffee shop now, his features sour. At least this place served tea. It was decent enough. Occasionally, he'll take slow, savoring sips, but he's in a pretty foul mood. That's what happens when he doesn't get enough sleep. Approach at your own risk!]
07 July 2011 at 02:11 am
[ And today's transmission reveals... about 90 minutes of a one [1] restrained young man staring, possibly without blinking.

Suddenly, action, as our fellow approaches the communicator: close-ups to a (left) red eye, fingers tapping the lens ( knock-knock!), a nostril sniffing the device, and finally, a peek of his...teeth and tongue... as they seem intent to bite - no, don't do that, it's unsanitary - phew, he's decided against chomping the lens and in favour of ---

...giving it a tentative lick.

Nom. Nom. Nom.

Sadly, the camera is not delicious enough, and he backs away. ]

...no tea.

[ Yes, okay, you've won the battle, evil not-tea machine. But the war has not yet been fought until both sides of this shiny, shiny card are displayed before the camera! ]
05 July 2011 at 11:12 am
Denizens of Marinaland, [meaningful cane pointing here,] I greet you as your new overlord. Follow me.

[He's on video, but he's going to start walking regardless. You better be following. :|]

My legend dates back to the twelfth century.

From the looks of you, you are all in serious need of conditioner and top hats, but I will excuse your poor manners for the time being. [He's had ample time to observe and judge, after all.] Now tell me, which one of you will be my wielder. Single file, one at a time. I will be inspecting your lapels for quality assurance. The nicer the lapels, the more capable the man.

[He flicks his own, for emphasis.]
[ Event: Summer Solstice Festival ]
29 June 2011 at 12:23 pm
[ Around noon, the robots that had been swarming the beach scatter, leaving a transformed landscape in their wakes. There are volleyball nets set up in the sand, along with colorful umbrellas and blankets beneath them. Part of the water has been sectioned off for water polo, while inflatable rafts in fanciful shapes are ready for use in the open area.

Ringing the beach are food stands serving street and festival foods: chin chin, takoyaki and taiyaki, aloo tikki, sabikh, empanada, hot dogs, ice cream and shaved ice, and suchlike. There is one stand where a robot serves an alcoholic punch not completely unlike sangria. Several of the other stands also serve non-alcoholic drinks. Clean up robots zoom from place to place, picking up garbage. ]
[ action ] open - backdated
20 June 2011 at 09:34 am
[It's just nighttime out. Sundown. Around the park in Sector four there's a creature lurking in the dark shade of the greenery. On the outside he's a hunter, a predator looking for his prey. On the inside is the taciturn man that the City usually sees, desperately fighting to regain the control he usually maintains. One bad day and this is what he gets. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. The wolf however, has been imprisoned inside of him for too long and is looking for a good spot of violence and a bite to eat. He's out for blood and he won't stop until that need is met.]

ooc: Backdated to Friday night because I am an idiot and got my dates (this weekend and next weekend) messed up.
more )
[action | closed | backdated to morning]
15 June 2011 at 01:52 pm
[Finding another place to crash for the night had been, unfortunately, unsuccessful. It had felt very odd, sneaking back into his own room, but Phoenix hadn't woken up. Thank God for that. He had always been a heavy sleeper, so once he was out--well, he was out. In retrospect, he'd blame himself for being an idiot, but it wasn't as though he was going to pull an all nighter just for Wright's behalf!]

[Sprawled out on the bed, his head partially under his pillow, the prosecutor was oblivious to the world around him. It was unfortunate, really. He'd soon sorely regret ever allowing the man into his room.]
[ Closed | Action ]
11 June 2011 at 02:44 pm
[ He doesn't really know how he ended up here, in the kitchen of the Shelter. He isn't even aware of the time aside from a general feeling of 'late'. It's been a long day, and maybe he drank a little more than he should.

It'd been a pure accident to discover the capability of the cookbot. Asking where he could find where the stuff to make sandwiches with had gotten him a pb&j in hand. After that, it was all downhill. No one else is here, so his alcohol-muddled mind thinks its an excellent idea to play Hell's Kitchen with the robots scurrying around ]

You call that a cake, Clanky? Do it over. More strawberry jam!

Put a potato in that soup. Don't peel it, idiot, just throw it in there! Yeah. It's supposed to boil over, don't even worry about it.

[ Right now, this is fantastic. This is the best thing ever. He's conducting from a seat on one of the preparation tables, nudging one of the bots with his foot ]

More pickles. Pickles, pickles, pickles.

[ Rummages through boxes in search of wine or beer, conveniently having forgotten that one can't bring alcohol outside of Sector Three. He tosses boxes that prove to be 'duds' right onto the floor, drunklogic telling him that it'll just disappear to where it's supposed to be. Back to the bot. ]

Hey, what's that? Pickles? How am I going to eat a peanut-butter sandwich with pickles? Ugh. Just go make me a burger, ok?

[ Idly eating his sandwich all the while, not thinking he might not be hungry enough to eat any of this when it's to his satisfaction. ]