[voice]-- have you had your anti-chomovirus vaccination yet, folks?

[gotmybones.livejournal.com]

Hell, if I’m gonna to be here a while…

All right, who here has medical experience? Surgical, nursing, pediatric? Or, access to equipment-- facilities, biofunction monitors, vaccinations. At this point, I’ll even take something as barbaric and invasive as an X-ray machine. An archaic bucket of bolts is better than guesswork.

The name’s Leonard McCoy, senior medical officer of the USS Enterprise. Not that that means a whole helluva lot to anyone listening who hasn’t heard of Starfleet-- government conspiracy my heel, kids these days-- so you’ll just have to take my word for it. I know what I’m doing, and I do it fast and right. But that takes room, and that's something I don't have.

I need free space to set up a medical wing, and people on-hand who’re willing to move along check-ups. With half of you blasted from every which brand of time and space, the number of germs in this place is enough to make the plague roll over and play dead. It’s a miracle half of you don’t have a case of Symbalene blood burn, walking around half-delusional with advanced cases of Rudellian brain fever at this point.

I’ve got minimum dosages of cordrazine, Masiform-D, neural paralyzer, sterilite, melanex, and tri-ox compound on hand, but it won’t last too long. A few other gadgets and a trauma kit, but that’s it. Slim pickings.

[Location: Taxon City Center][Open] Exploring

[lapsedsaint]

Asher had kept Charlie restrained and weak in the house for days while he learned about where he was. Going back through the tablet's archives explained why the sunlight didn't bother him, it was artificial and lacked the heavy UV component that was so deadly to his kind. He also learned that the replicator hatches could make almost anything. Not that they could make what he needed.

Charlie was becoming too weak to continue feeding from, so it was time to go out and see what other tasty morsels this place had to offer. Perhaps starting in the city center, he could find someone delicious. Before he left, he knocked Charlie out, trusting that she would be unconscious until he returned.




[ooc: First, I apologize for how late this is. Life got weird on me and busy. Second, this is the open victim/hunter post. Anyone who wants to be a victim of Asher's (you know who you are), start a thread and we'll do it. Any questions, PM me.]

05 ✘ [voice]

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[There's a long pause, followed by a sigh before Ianto speaks, sounding somewhat tired and resigned.]

Jack's gone. Harkness. Not O'Neill or any other Jack's that might be around, so far as I know.

The Hub's gone too, so any answers I might have found in the Archives are inaccessible.

Without them I... Well, I'm not really sure there's much I can do.

I still hadn't found anything in there before it's disappearance, so it's not as though I can even recall any relevant information.

I'm sorry. I did try to find something.

009: [visual] Nothing lasts forever [locked to Anna and Castiel]

[fudgingkillyou.livejournal.com]

The tablet flickers on, and Dean's sitting in a chair in Bobby's house. It's a big, cushioned chair, and it's faded, like it's been used a lot. At the moment, it's covered in various booze bottles. It also looks like Dean's been sitting there for a while. He stares into the tablet, red-eyed and totally wrecked looking, and speaks lowly and slowly.

"They're gone. All of them." He says simply, and then the tablet shuts off, and Dean continues to drown himself in alcohol. This time, he thinks he might actually drink until his liver fails. He doesn't care.


[[ooc: So I promise this is the last time Dean will be depressed for a while. Just a follow up post to the Winchester departure. Cas and Anna to the rescue!]]

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

[aesthetic_mojo]

Once it sank in to Charlotte that Ianto was coming to get her, she dragged herself out of bed and managed to make it into the shower. There was no way she would face a virtual stranger with blood all over her neck. She also didn't want him to see any other evidence of what had happened. That was unacceptable. The kittens stayed with her, going so far as to teleport into the shower with her. She was too sore and tired to laugh at them.

She made herself dress, but decided on ultra soft yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt instead of her usual tailored clothes. Most of the bruises and marks from John's...Asher's attack were covered. Only the bites on her neck and the darkening bruise on her cheek really showed. She left the front door open so she didn't have to get up to let Ianto in.

By the time Ianto made it to the house, Charlotte was on the living room couch with both kittens in her lap. Rather than curling up, each kitten sat on a knee and stared up at her. She did not pet them or otherwise acknowledge them. Instead she stared straight ahead, shuddering every time some aspect of what had happened made it through her barriers.

[Holo / Visual] Not in Kansas anymore...

[buck-the-system.livejournal.com]

"Oh, frak me..."

Kara Thrace is used to waking up disoriented in strange places. She's used to waking up with a headache, that's nothing new either, but the immediate jolt of being transported from one place to another without any hint of warning? Yeah, that's new. That's new and entirely unwelcome - it's also made her sort of sick to her stomach, in the same way bad liquor turns her innards inside out. Biting her lip fiercely to fight the force of bile working up into her throat, Kara swallows tightly. Once the wave of nausea is gone, it takes her about half a second to register two things. She's not anywhere she recognizes, and that there's a silver bracelet embedded in her wrist. Neither are good.

One hand darts down to where one of her pistols sits in its holster. She draws it slowly. Moving with quick, quiet steps, Kara moves out of the arrival room and into the main enclave, pistol held tightly with both hands, barrel pointed towards the floor as she moves.

Eyes wide, she stops at the edge of a wall and crouches, listening for voices, footsteps... for anything, actually. The distant sounds of others drift down the hallway, and Kara immediately darts down, forcing her breathing to be even and quiet. She thumbs the safety on the side of her pistol and then chambers a round with the electronic components in her pistol warming up almost soundlessly. Clenching the pistol grip tightly with both hands, Kara eases around her cover to get a quick look.

"Alright!" she shouts, after sitting there for a bit of time. Shooting at things is better than boredom. "Someone better explain to me really damn quickly where the frak I am!"