[location][John Everton's house][closed]

[aesthetic_mojo]

Set fairly soon after Mr. Xander Harris' glitch ends.



Charlotte could at least say she had made less of a fool of herself than some of the others. She'd barely touched Xander, who would need an apology and explanation at some point. She'd told the other women to cool it and wait out the effects of whatever spell that was. And, she hoped, she'd only managed to annoy John and not really piss him off.

She tried to be respectful of his dislikes, but this pure out hadn't been under her control. She didn't think that was going to help much, though. Not nearly as much as she'd like, anyway.

When she got back to the house, she straightened out the clothes she'd been wearing for almost thirty six hours, brushed her fingers through her hair, and walked in the front door. She tried really hard not to flinch when the door shut behind her. He wasn't going to shoot her or anything. Or burn her at the stake. Hopefully.

"John?"

Just as she spoke, the kittens appeared at her feet, both complaining loudly and snaking around her feet. She really wasn't ready for them at all.

[Leonard McCoy-- Entry] [Holo]

[gotmybones.livejournal.com]

And here, the small image of man, irate and slightly bemused, with the only indication of the latter being the slightly raised brow on his grim expression. In a ready-set-tirade mode already, (hell, where is he?) he begins to look around, taking in the surroundings-- and then begins to talk. Mostly to himself, but listen in if you're out there.

"Oh, well gee, this is just great, Jim. I sign up to ride on your Starship-- which, by the way I’m not saying you stole, but Lady Luck must have been one of your old flames back in the Academy— men just don’t get handed flagships-- and look at what happens. Five minutes on board, and I’m already regretting not staying parked on earth in a nice, cozy, immobile private practice. Space Crazy new engineer of yours must have beamed my particles halfway to lost."

Another look around, slightly more timed, a bit more wary, or perhaps just taking in the finer details now that the haze of confusion is clearing. Not becoming any sharper, just less overpowering.

It doesn't stop his mouth from running off, mind of its own, though.

"I signed up to be a medical officer in Starfleet, not a god damn test monkey for sub-space trans-matter practical jokes. I’m a doctor Jim, not one of Mr. Scott’s grapefruits!"

And as if on cue, finally, he steps off the transporter pad-- reminded that he'd not liked to be beamed anywhere else today, thanks.

"Ah, who the heck am I talking to, anyway."

A glance down at the tablet, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"Buckle up, my ass."

septimus; [location: park]; open

[caelitus.livejournal.com]

There's something about angels and parks. Castiel hasn't really noticed. Maybe it's the quiet, maybe it's the simplistic life of it all, maybe it's the availability of benches -- who knows. But he's sitting in one now. He'd needed time and a place to think, and this was the first place to come to mind.

Anna. He doesn't know where to go from here. Whether he betrayed her, or whether he was forced to follow orders, he doesn't know, but the thought is bearing into him the more he lets himself wonder. What else has he done? Was that even the true future that Anna experienced? Or was it another trick? What was to come in the oncoming Apocalypse? These questions, their existence still slightly overwhelming, aren't the only things on the angel's mind.

Dean. He hasn't been near him since he returned to normal, and he's still not sure if continuing to interfere is for the best. What Anna had said... she had a point, but with recent events, he's not even sure if his presence will help.

So he's at a halfway point, no decision made on either side. Back to watching and listening; old habits die hard. Castiel sits quietly, breeze at his back, eyes seemingly focused on the grass ahead of him.

((ooc: Bothabothabothabotha.))

[Location; park] [Open] [Holo] I'm just a dirtbag under the weather, I'm overrated.

[who-never-would.livejournal.com]

The Doctor has probably not been seen for quite some time, by anyone. Thank you, Taxon, he's had quite enough of this city, and he wants out now. The novelty of a new place has worn off.  However, he can't leave. Clearly. So he's actually been holed up in the TARDIS, generally being a recluse and ignoring most of the city's occupants in favor of more interesting things. Or more frustrating things. Actually, he's not entirely sure what's more frustrating, River Song and her propensity for being right, or the fact that neither he nor the TARDIS have had any luck even accessing Taxon's basecodes. It's been ages since the Doctor has come across a computer he couldn't blithely tear apart or reprogram to fit his wishes, so at first, it'd been like having a brand new puzzle. The newness, of course, is wearing off at this point, and now he simply stares at his console screen for what seems like the umpteenth night in a row. He can ask the computer for as much tea as he can drink and as many jellybabies as he can consume without making himself sick [which is indeed a considerable amount], but as for getting anything really useful out of the the console, it's been a definite failure.

So he reaches over to his communicator, stares at it with narrowed eyes, deliberating contacting someone, anyone at this point, and then tosses it back onto the TARDIS' console. Too bad he's too absorbed in being frustrated to notice he's flipped on the holographic setting.

Anyone paying attention to the Doctor's video feed will watch him pace around, tap around at the console and generally mope about. Finally, he settles back into the chair, pulls out what looks to be a copy of a rather old book, props up his feet on the console and reads.

Because, really, there's nothing else to do here.

[Anyone who's wandering about will notice a blue police call box sitting on the edge of the sidewalk near the park, carefully parked in between two houses. It's got a nicely cultivated lawn and even a little yard gnome sitting next to it. The door is open for the time being, seeing as it's a nice evening.]

003: [Location: Winchester house] Back to normal.

[iwantafamily.livejournal.com]

Mary had heard all about the love spell she had been under for the last day. She had no plans to contact Xander, though she did think she owed him an apology when she felt brave enough. She was more worried about Dean and Sam. Bobby would laugh it off and call her a name. John had already forgiven her, as soon as she'd woken up normal.

It was different with the boys. She didn't think it mattered that she had been under the influence of a spell. They'd had their family threatened by the person who they least expected to hurt them. When she thought back on the conversations she had with Sam and Dean, she was worried. Mad at herself too, but that didn't do her any good.

She thought that the best way to make things right with the boys, was to show them that their family was fine. She wanted them to understand that everything was back to normal, and cooking a big dinner seemed to be the easiest way to do this. She'd been working on it all day, occassionally ordering John to get ingredients from a replicator hatch. He insisted that a simple 'I'm sorry' would do, but she knew how important sitting down as a family was to Sam.

She wasn't sure would want to be in the same room with her, much less sit down and share a meal, but she was going to try. She had a half hour to go before dinner would be ready, but dessert (pie) was done. If this didn't work, she'd just have to give them time.

002 [VISUAL; LOCATION: BURNT TOAST DINER, OSTEN; LOCKED TO: DEAN]

[uetoresu.livejournal.com]

No one's come to the Burnt Toast Diner yet, but Charlie doesn't give up hope. She walks here every other day, opens it, takes the chairs down and then puts them back up again. The replicator hatch in the storage room provides her with everything she needs: cookbooks full of new recipes and all the ingredients for them. There's power - she puts on the radio while she cooks. She'll make herself lunch and a few desserts, because they're meant to be cold and if no one eats them she can simply take them back home and give them to neighbours.

And the friendlier she is, the fewer secrets people assume she has.

There's a pie in the oven and one on the counter, currently. The synthetic sun has started to wane; she'll go home soon. Having stacked all the chairs onto their table, leaving the stools at the counter to sit on, she sweeps up her own footprints but leaves the blinds open. She likes to wait to the last possible second, convinced someone will come eventually and she wants to be here when they do. But even if she's alone, she doesn't mind. Solitude has never bothered her, and she can't be wandering Taxon every hour of every day. She's more willing to have close relationships than before she met Hiro, but there's still a distance she must maintain. She still has to protect them.

002 [Holo]- Suddenly not so fun

[oldoldghost.livejournal.com]

If Brigitta looks rather grumpy and rather tired it's because she most certainly is, not only has she not found any route of escape even while exploring everywhere but she has also made a utter fool of herself and is now feeling rather embarrassed about it (and a little guilty, which is kind of ridiculous considering that she had nothing romantic with Kirilli anyway and he isn't even here.)

"I suppose I can confirm that there's no way out" she eventually mutters after glaring at the tablet for a few minutes "I've explored pretty much everywhere there is to explore and there's definitely nothing, but you probably all already knew that so that's kind of pointless."

She glances away for a few seconds before sighing to herself and glancing back at the tablet "I'd also like to apologise to anybody I acted like a fool to, I've already apologised to Xander but to anybody else I'd just like to say that I'm sorry, and I probably didn't mean most of what I said."

Yeah, she doesn't make many apologies, this is taking quite a lot out of her and she's kind of hoping that nobody remarks on her apology too much, then she can just go back to being herself and rarely wanting to apologise for anything.

005: [voice] All's well

[demonmagnetism.livejournal.com]

[After certain recent hellish events that require no elaboration, Xander finds himself alone with the tablet, a headache and a very awkward apology]

So.

Even though none of that, uh-- shall we say 'unpleasant business' was actually my fault, I just want to apologize to everyone that was affected, and for any... inadvertant temporary offense I may have caused.

I'm sorry.

In conclusion, I hope you're all okay and anyone for a rousing chorus of 'let's never speak of it again'?


[ooc: glitch DONE thanks for all the epic, guys]

001 [Holo] Dammit...that's another butterfly

[mybrothershadow.livejournal.com]

He’s always disoriented for a moment when he arrives someplace, body tense, wired for worry. What if he’d gotten it wrong? He opens his eyes, brow furrowed as he scans the room. Apparently this time, he’s gotten it very wrong. He’s supposed to be in 2011 New York…with his younger, stupider self.

“Peter?” he says, turning a full circle in the circular room. Hesitantly he steps toward the pedestal with the electronic device on it. There aren’t many people who can do this.

“Hiro?”

It’s a logical second guess but when he gets no response he picks the device up pushing some buttons and unexpectedly pulling up a map. Taxon. Right. He’s never heard of that but maybe somehow…

“I need to get back to 2011 New York City. Or 2007. The world is on a path that you are not going to like if I don’t fix it. Nathan is set to turn the whole world into a comic book gone bad and right now? Everything is depending on…” he sighs and runs a hand over his slicked back hair. “This…Peter. He needs my help or he’s not going to get this right.”

When there’s no response, he considers throwing the tablet across the room but calmer heads prevail and he hangs onto it, noticing the bracelet fused to his wrist for the first time. The pit of his stomach drops out and he realizes that somehow he’s made everything much, much worse.

004 [visual] Lonely

[songofspoilers.livejournal.com]

River's been pretty much keeping herself to herself. It's been a long time since she was in her own house. And as academically geeky as it is, which it is, she's been reading through all her old papers. River has a tendency to shut out that which she'd rather not deal with and immerse herself in her work. And despite hers and the Doctor's heated and emotional debate, it hadn't really been concluded. So she's been doing exactly what he accused her of; holing herself up in her house and working to avoid confrontation.

Until it struck her that he'd called her on it. Which, in turn, made her realise she'll be damned if she's going to be predictable. Plus, she may just be missing social contact, not that she'd admit it.

Unlike most other people here, she has no desire to get out. Taxon, although a prison, offers far more freedom than the datacore did. And as far as she can tell, she's actually alive here, not some image of herself recreated from her data echo.

"Looks like I've missed out on all the fun and games," she smiles wryly. "Which, judging by the aftermath, might not be a bad thing. Anyway, we're all stuck here, and meeting over the tablets isn't quite the same thing. So if anyone fancies popping over for a glass of wine or two, I wouldn't say no. Or coffee, or whatever floats your boat really."