v [ location: somewhere in wilde ] / [ visual ].

[sirachi.livejournal.com]

This place had so much chaos. Siri wanted desperately to step up and do something to promote a more peaceful atmosphere for Taxon, but she knew it wasn't her place to interfere and as of yet, none of the occurrences had been a threat to her, thus ruling out the possibility of excusing intervention as vital to self-preservation. What was frustrating, however, wasn't being ethically unable to interfere in that which she wasn't involved, it was being unable to silence the chaos in a psychological sense.

Siri's telepathic and empathic senses were working on overtime with how hyperaware she was, combined with this closed setting. The things people felt usually kept traveling through the Force until they were too faint to be sensed anymore, but here in Taxon, the emotions simply bounced around inside the barrier until they lost their momentum and eventually dissipated. All of which gave Siri one grand headache after another. She was skilled, but she wasn't Masters Windu or Yoda; she wasn't knowledgeable enough with the Old Ways to know how to completely shut herself off from the force. The only thing Siri could do was put up mental shields against that which became too intense.

And meditate. And by the moons of Bogden, did she meditate; at least once, if not twice, a day by this point.

So stood the Jedi Master, eyes closed, feet shoulder-width apart, and hands clasped behind her back in an almost reflective pose. To the uniformed it might appear as if that's all she's doing -- thinking -- when she's, in reality, doing so much more that cannot be seen.

Why her tablet decided to flicker to life and capture her doing this, she'll never know. She hasn't noticed yet, but feel free to disturb her and make her aware of it. Tablets, their timing is impeccable.

[visual] finally finished!

[machinesgoping.livejournal.com]

Topher turned on his tablet, and for a moment it showed the chair and system he'd just rebuilt, but he situated it on his desk so that it was broadcasting him sitting in a swivel chair instead.

"Hey, if anyone was looking for me, I'm done being a hermit now. It's all... rebuilt and such."

He didn't really feel like explaining what was rebuilt, but if someone asked he would probably explain. After all, Dawn had told him to spill away, right?

Then he adjusted the filter, so it was now filtered only to those he considered friends, or at least interesting acquaintances.

"So yeah. I think a celebration of some sort is called for. Anybody up for going out or.. y'know, opening a couple bottles around here?"

012. [ visual ] met a man with a message from the other side.

[gating-across.livejournal.com]

"It's November... meaning Thanksgiving. Turkey, stuffing, pie, and football." Sheppard addressed the tablet once he had turned on the visual feature.

He was sitting at the water trap of the golf course in Wilde. Not that anyone else went there. Besides, well, obviously the Extras. They didn't really count. Not according to Sheppard. He looked up at the sky and made a face. Cloudy again. It was more like weather in Atlantis than it was on Earth. Either rain or sun. A little comforting, he supposed.

"So, the question is: what the hell are we gonna do for Turkey Day?"

[Holo: Introduction] Rising from a cold grave, should have brought a sweater

[0ne-woman-army.livejournal.com]

“Do you know who I am?” the voice asked.

Aeryn stared straight ahead of her. She was cold, frigid and icy though she couldn’t quite tell where the source of the cold was. Not that she had tried to look. She sat poised in a simple chair, long dark hair a mess and cool gray eyes staring off into the distance of some random, never-ending winter wasteland. She didn’t reply, didn’t even think, really. She just remained motionless.

“Do you know who you are?” it asked this time. Instinct told her to answer.

“Officer Aeryn Sun, Special Peacekeeper Commando, Icarion Company, Pleisar Regiment. Have you come to reassign me?”

“I’ve come to take you back,” the soft, caring voice replied. Aeryn felt warm palms on her temples and a forehead pressed against her own. The fog in her mind suddenly cleared, and she recognized before her the welcoming image of P’au Zota Zhaan, long time friend and priestess. She felt confused by her presence.

“Zhaan? What is this?”

“Unity, Aeryn. The sharing of minds and souls. As our thoughts merge, you will understand.”

“I understand that you shoulden’t be here,” she replied.

“Nor should you.”

Aeryn felt a sudden feeling of guilt and dread. Somehow, she knew what was happening. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you. More importantly... Crichton loves you. You must take this gift, not for my sake, but for his.”

Aeryn struggled to gain control over her own thoughts again, to keep them out of reach of the priestess who was trying to bring her back to life. “I can't. I know your thoughts, and I know what this will cost you.”

“Stop resisting Aeryn. Accept this.”

“No!” she felt herself scream as she sat straight up in shock. She felt as though she had been ripped from a dream at the speed of starburst. Her head swelled and pounded with each heartbeat, but she couldn’t bring it to a halt no matter how hard she tried. What had happened? The last thing she remembered, she had been drowning… she felt her throat close up at the though of being unable to breath and she had to force herself to remain calm. Whatever had happened, she first needed to know exactly where she was.

Where she was, exactly, looked like it was going to be much harder to figure out. The room all around her was circular with tall, smooth metallic walls. She stood and slapped her thigh, both shocked and angry that the pulse pistol she usually wore there was gone. “Yotz,” she cursed and found that her voice echoed loudly off of the smooth walls. Aeryn felt her military training come flooding back as easily as if she had been born a Peacekeeper yesterday. She surveyed her surroundings.

No outlines or seams in the walls for doors, how she got inside was a complete mystery. Even the ceiling was closed and sealed perfectly with no sign of tampering. A small beep to her left made her spin and reach for the pistol that wasn’t there. A tablet, laying flat on a pedestal that had not been there moments before chirped at her happily. “What the frell…?” She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. The technology was certainly not Peacekeeper, but it wasn’t Scarran or Charron either.

Boldly, she pressed a single button and found that a hologram of a map popped up for her to see. She pressed a few of the other unmarked buttons but found that they did nothing. She frowned and shook the tablet violently as though doing so would help relieve her frustration. “What the frell is going on here!” she shouted to no one in particular and was shocked to see that the little tablet lit up and chirped happily in reply, showing a small red dot to the far extreme edge of the map.