taxonomites | [Location: Taxon Streets, the Wilde/Central-ish Portion]/[Voice] Turn Left

Tara's had her first full day back at work. It was quiet, and calming, and she feels a little better for having something to do. She's been working on herbs, magical and mundane, principally for Morgana, who she genuinely hopes is healing herself. She hasn't looked up Morgana (or Cordelia or Rose) yet, giving them a bit of space and taking some for herself. Still, she's getting the shop back in order, expanding the inventory, and trying not to think about the fact she hasn't felt her magic since Sam had told her she could let go. It would come back - she just had to wait and trust it.

And if it didn't... she'd survive. Maybe a little broken, but she'd hang in there. There was a lot a person could learn to live with, if they have to.

She locks up and starts to head for home. She feels like walking; there's a small current of fear that doesn't leave her these days, but being around Extras is worse than walking by herself. It's a nice enough evening, a little cloudy and not too hot, and she could use the exercise, now that she feels stronger.

Of course, this is all lovely until the glitch hits.

Suddenly, Tara looks terrified. She doesn't know where she is, or how she got here, but she knows she is not where she is supposed to be. This is so very, very bad.

She fumbles through her pockets and finds a thing that looks sort of like a phone. She presses "talk," and says, "H-hello? Is a-anyone t-there?" Her stutter is thick, and her voice is quiet despite the panic; if she were less panicked, she would never dare to just talk on a strange phone, but when her family notices her gone, bad things will happen. And if anyone here finds out what she is -

- she needs to go home. Right away.

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"....a-abducted?" She's a little pale. This is so many kinds of bad.

"Do you need to sit down?" He indicates a nearby tram bench. "I know that it's a lot to take in at first. That device you were talking into is called a tablet. We all have one, it helps us to communicate with each other. There's also this..."

He holds up his arm and pulls his sleeve back to show the strange metal band fused to his wrist.

"I think it may be some sort of GPS trace marker, to keep tabs on us, but it also enables us to take the tram and use the hatching machines to get supplies. It's rather like a giant theme park menagerie that no-one can seem to escape from. Although I do hear of people having left, we just don't know if it was voluntary or not."

Wesley pauses, hoping that he hasn't overloaded her with information.

"I assure you that many of us are doing our best to discover a way to thwart our captors and return home."

Edited 2010-06-03 23:37 (UTC)

At least, unlike everyone else, he doesn't unnervingly know her name, it seems. "M-mr. Wyndam-Pryce, I don't want to be rude, I just d-don't understand. We're t-trapped, then?"

The sitting down might be a good idea, but she's probably not going to initiate it.

Wesley offers a reassuring if reserved smile. "You're not being rude at all. I expect this is quite the unnerving experience for you, I know it was for me." Yes, the British do have a knack for understating things. "We're trapped in the sense that this city has boundaries which apparently can't be breached and there doesn't seem to be a way to contact the outside world. I rather like to think of it as a hell dimension, difficult to get to or escape, and outside of the normal rules of physics or temporal chronology. However, I'm no expert in space-time physics and you might want to ask my friend Winifred about that."

"O-okay." She looks very deeply shaken, and still scared. "Y-you sound like you k-know a lot about strange things, though. W-with the a-aliens and the m-magic and all." Her stutter is really quite thick, but she pushes through.

"Well, you see, it's my vocation. I'm a supernatural investigator and demon hunter. I used to work for the Watcher's council back in the day, but now I freelance, rooting out evil and darkness wherever it is and 'helping the helpless'. That's actually my agency's motto."

She shrinks back from him, involuntarily. "I s-see." He knows, she thinks, or he will know in a minute, and she's not sure she can outrun him (he's taller than she is, and she doesn't know the streets here). But she can't run; she feels frozen to the spot.

Wesley is a little taken aback by her sudden recoil. Was it something he said? "I know it sounds a bit far-fetched but I assure you that demons and vampires and other supernatural creatures do exist. As does arcane magic. I won't hurt you, I'm here to help. Perhaps if you gave me your name. There might be others here who know you."

She swallows. "I'm T-tara Maclay, but I... I should g-go try and find a way b-back." She's trying to keep a handle on her panic. Is he just playing with her, or has he not figured it out yet? Maybe he needs a detector or a spell or something to notice.

"Tara Maclay." The name doesn't immediately ring a bell. "Let me at least escort you where you wish to go. I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving you to wander alone in this distressed state, especially since the Extras have been acting oddly. Or you could come with me to the Hyperion Hotel. There are other people there. Nice, friendly people who might be able to explain this better than me."

Her throat is tight - she still hasn't decided whether he knows or not, and she knows better than to argue with a man telling her to do something, but she doesn't want him to kill her either. On the other hand, he doesn't seem hostile, yet, which means maybe he doesn't know. As long as she doesn't try to do anything stupid, maybe he won't find out.

"Y-you don't have to d-do that," she says, faintly, but she's not going to fight him.