[Text / Location: Around the City] Tired of Goodbyes

[supercompacted.livejournal.com]

There's been an awful lot of departures lately, haven't there? It seems like something's going on. Although there always is something going on, I guess.

Well, we're missing one more. For those of you who knew him, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce has left Taxon again. His apartment's gone, and as far as I know we all remember it, so I suspect he won't be back. At least not for awhile.

And I'm going for a long walk. Lorne, expect to see me tonight?

---

After contemplating it for a moment or two, she decided not to mask her location. There was no reason to, really. And if anyone wanted to find her, that was fine. It wasn't as if everyone was gone, after all. She shoved the tablet back on her wrist a little more forcefully than necessary and walked down the street, hands in her pockets. She paid less attention to the decorations than the aliens probably would've liked, but it did all catch her eye (and remind her of how her father would overdo it occasionally, back home).

Despite what it looked like, her mind was on the data she'd gone over with Spencer a few days prior, trying to find some sort of pattern that would at least explain the departures. If she could just know why, this whole thing wouldn't be so hard to take. She was trying not to think too hard about what it was she was trying to adjust to, at the moment.

She approached a bell-ringer out of habit, then frowned. She didn't have any real money to give him, and that brought her back to the reality of the situation. She was in an alien city, not LA or San Antonio or someplace that would be much warmer than here. Nothing here really tracked with the real world. But the Extra looked hopeful and she let out a sigh. "Is there even a way to give you credits?"

[ooc: She'll be walking down toward the south end of Taxon, eventually stopping off at Wolfram and Hart and then likely Caritas. Feel free to see her wandering!]

[ Accidental visual ] what's a vampire gotta do to get his roots done?

[vikingvampire.livejournal.com]

The sound of a shower going and a slightly foggy video is all that can be made out at first, when the tablet spontaneously turns itself on. When the shower turns off, a blurred male figure walks out of the bathroom, allowing the steamy air out and the tablet to defog. After a minute, Eric walks back in with a white towel around his waist while finishing drying his hair with another, smaller towel. He's completely oblivious to the broadcasting tablet as he stands at the sink preparing to brush his teeth. He may be a vampire, but even they have hygiene habits. And having clean teeth and breath that doesn't smell like old blood is part of his daily routine.

It takes a minute or two to thoroughly brush, making sure he gets his fangs clean too. Sure he could easily use his vampire speed to do it in under 20 seconds with the same results, but today he doesn't mind going slow. Once that's done he takes his comb and slicks his hair back, getting rid of the few tangles that had formed from towel drying. It's as he's doing this that he pauses and it's clear he's focusing on something. With narrowed eyes, he leans forward a little and combs his fingers through his hair, lifting it up so he can see what he's looking at better.

"Oh great," he says, obviously annoyed, "just what I need."

There's about half an inch of new hair growth that's a shade darker than the blond hair he sporting now. He blames it all on Pam. She was the one who wanted to dye it a lighter blond to begin with and now he has to maintain it. And since she's not here, who can he get to dye it again? She's the only one he trusts with his hair.

029 ± [location: the northern island] rockin' around the lurlinemas tree

[aintnoconvict]

The main hall of the palace had been successfully festooned with all things...winter-holiday related, all warmth and brightness and glittery stuff. Strands of lights marked a path through the forest of columns to the ballroom, which if anything managed to be more festive than the hall.

Glitch hovered by the sound system to make final adjustments, pleased that he'd been able to get the Ozian and Otherside tech to work together. The musical accompaniment for the evening would veer from "seasonally appropriate" to jazz and big band to whatever folks wrangled into the CD player. He'd suggested people bring music and their own alcohol, although a case of champagne had been hauled up from the wine cellar. A self-serve bar had been established, and there were tables with a decent amount of food, others for sitting and schmoozing, and a large space for dancing.

After weighing his options, Glitch had gone with the outfit Paul had assembled: the brown suit with the green silk shirt, coppery waistcoat and gold tie. It was nicely Earth-like, but at the last minute he affixed a sprig of lavender to his lapel with a silver crown pin since he needed a little something of the O.Z. to truly feel presentable.


ooc: Modest Mouse has exactly no festive lyrics. Also PARTY POST! Tag in, tag each other, get in the car! The party begin in the early evening and shall continue into the night. HAVE FUN, TAXON!