taxonomites | I [Holo] Finding myself making every possible mistake

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I [Holo] Finding myself making every possible mistake

"—sexual intercourse, I've said it like a dozen… Xander?" Anya frowns. Xander's basement is far from a pleasant place, but it is somewhat less metallic and plus, there is Xander and juice boxes and she's pretty sure from the way he'd been staring at her that he was going to end up engaging in coitus with her, except now he's gone.

She crosses her arms and frowns. "This isn't funny! Where are you, Xander? Is this because you're friends with the Slayer? Because I don't think it's fair that I suffer just because you guys keep pissing off very powerful evil forces."

As it becomes clearer and clearer that Xander is not here, and the demon behind this is not making itself known, she shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Hello? Anyone?" She glances around, looking sulky. "I'm getting cold."

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Anya looks around at the sound of the his voice. She hasn't yet located the Tablet.

"Yest, it's one of many shortcomings of human bodies. Death and menstruation are other ones. Who are you?"

At least she can admit it. The Master appreciates frank honesty-- as long as he doesn't necessarily have to reciprocate.

"A fellow prisoner," he replies, and lets her look around a bit before adding, "Your communications device is on the pedestal to your right. Compliments of the house." May as well be helpful, if he's making new friends.

Well, that's something, at least. She goes over to the pedestal, stares at the device for a bit, than presses the button that switches it to visual.

"Why did they do this to me?" she asks. "I didn't do anything. Not recently, anyways."

"Ssshh, ssshh," he says soothingly, wondering in the back of his mind what sorts of things she might have done. "Everything will be all right. Would you like me to bring you some clothes?"

The Master knows she's perfectly capable of hatching her own, but a little show of hospitality never hurt anyone. What came after might have, of course, but for now he'll do his best to play nice.

She scowls. "Don't patronize me! Do I look like some small child to be hushed? I'll have you know I'm well over a thousand years old and I have some experience in these matters! Also, I don't know you, and I'm very aware of how untrustworthy strange men can be!"

Actually, she rather does. The Master looks a little taken aback. Not quite a human, then. And disinclined toward men. How interesting.

"Well, if you'd rather walk around naked..." He shrugs. "Although that may get you even more unwanted attention."

She crosses her arms and frowns. "I want to know what happened to Xander. Was he taken too?"

He just manages not to smirk. Despite her callous words on the subject of trust, she's apparently expecting him to have a roster of the place. And to be honest with her.

"He may be here." Although he doubts it; a quick look at the map reveals no one currently by that name. But then, a great many names have mysteriously disappeared from the map as of late. Martha Jones, notably.

"Not to patronize you again, but would you like any help looking for him? I'm a relatively new arrival, but I do know my way around the city, and I'm happy to be of service."

She peers at him suspiciously. She could use both the clothes and the help looking, but she doesn't want to trust blindly.

"What's your name?"

"Harold Saxon," he answers without hesitation. He's already decided that if he's to earn anyone's trust here, it would be best not to appear too devious by inventing new monikers left and right. He's seen that sort of thing fall through often enough, and this place is simply too small for it.

"But you can call me Harry. And your name?"

"Anya Jenkins. You can call me Anya." She nods at him. "All right, you can help me." Anya looks at him shrewdly. "But it doesn't mean I trust you."

He smiles, satisfied. "Of course not. Trust is to be earned, after all. So, Anya--" and the Master is in motion, the video feed from the tablet catching glimpses of the interior of a resplendently decorated house-- "What size are you?"

"What sort of question is that?" she demands. "I'm a perfectly normal size! Do I look fat?"

The Master rolls his eyes, and then tilts the tablet back to himself, clearing his throat significantly.

"For the clothing I'm to bring you?" He could probably estimate based on his memory of her figure, but he'd rather not have her complain about something that didn't fit just right.

"Oh. Um, does this place even run earth sizes? Just bring me something. I can find better clothes later."

Guessing, then. The Master thinks a moment, then hatches up something simple enough-- slacks and a blouse, sensible shoes. She doesn't seem the fanciful type.

"On my way now," he promises her. "Sit tight. I'll be there shortly."

[ooc: Uh, considering what's happening in the Cordelia thread now, how did you want to play this?]

After a bit of talking to Cordelia, Anya has decided that it's best to let Cordelia be the one to show her around. Cordelia seemed pretty worried about this Harold Saxon person, and anyway, Anya likes women better in general and is more inclined to trust Cordelia than Saxon. She flashes him a very false smile.

"Actually, it turns out I do have people I know here, and one is coming to find me. So you don't need to. Please go away."

[ooc: I waited on Cordy's response, which is about what I thought it would be, so... Anya's going to decide to tell him not to come. If he plans on not listening, we can decide who shows up first. If the Master does and tries to make Anya go places with him, she most certainly will slap him.]

"Oh." His mouth goes into a tight line. Someone must have gotten to her already, the odds of which seem incredibly unlikely. He can't really say it's a surprise, but he concentrates on looking disappointed.

"Suit yourself, then."

And now to ferret out who she knows, and how.

[ooc: Oh, mmkay]

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I [Holo] Finding myself making every possible mistake

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