[OPEN] [Casa Westen] Six of One, Half Dozen of the Other

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

Michael sat on his kitchen counter, tablet in his lap expanded to its biggest laptop form.  He was pretty sure he'd worked out most of the kinks in the gadget -- well, more or less -- except for the crucial matters of breaking it, sabotaging it or trying to get it to stay off for long periods of time.  How was it even powered?  Taxon (he was resigning himself to accepting it was called that) defied the laws of physics as he knew it, like it had its own laws of sci-fi physics.  It probably did.  That unnerved him beyond belief -- he was used to being from a world where vinegar and baking soda made foam and gasoline and Coca-Cola bottle made Molotov cocktail.  Having to re-learn the basic rules of reality was like getting the muscles in his legs rearranged while he slept so he woke up not actually knowing how to walk.

But: first things first.  You broke a task up into tiny steps, and you took the steps.  Eventually you got to the end of the task.  Or it kept adding steps faster than you could keep up, but Michael Westen was Michael Westen and in his own opinion he could keep up pretty goddamned fast.

He crossed his legs next to the new range Jesse had installed and, after a moment of consideration, tapped a few icons and dialed Paul Smecker, call set to Visual.

[OOC: Call is locked to Paul, but post is open to anyone who wants to call or visit Michael for some reason]

Comments

[Voice - Locked]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

Paul starts violently when the tablet rings, because the ring volume is set insanely high and he's pretty sure he didn't do that. Also because he's poring over a note he wrote himself the day before, the transcription of some pretty fucked-up caroling, and he's been watching some specific things being broadcast on the tablet lately and he's been chain-smoking and operating on the shitty Taxon coffee and he is just a little bit jumpy.

But he grabs the phone and even manages to answer the call.

"Westen? Jesus-- I've meant to call you. Jesus, fuck, we should talk."

[Voice - Locked]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

Michael switched it to voice out of habit too, not a huge fan of conversations where the other person could see him better than he could see them -- it put him in mind of a captor interrogating him in a dark cell or a sniper on the phone to him on a rooftop somewhere. "Yeah, I know, I was thinking just the same thing," he said, leaning back against a cabinet. "How're you holding up? You want to go first?"

[Voice - Locked]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

Paul laughed in answer, a bit hysterical-sounding, but then cleared his throat.

"I was doing pretty well until--" he tried to pinpoint when the caroling shit went down, and watching Godric and the other... whenever it was. Yesterday? Day before?

"Two days ago. So have you pegged yet we're in here with...." Paul didn't know how to say this. "...people who aren't... people who are more than human?"

[Voice - Locked]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

"That's what I hear, yeah," said Michael, hopping to his feet again as he cradled the phone against his shoulder. "I figure since you said more you don't just mean the Extras? I've heard some people talk about it, but I haven't seen anything for myself. Why, what's the story from your corner?"

Re: [Voice - Locked]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

"Yes. Okay. Yes." Paul paced himself, making a circuit of the shop, stopping to adjust a clockwork that seemed too near a shelf's edge.

"Sorry, I'm still stupidly trying to filter my words to things that make logical sense and I don't know why as that is obviously pointless. Alright, in one ridiculous word: vampires.

"Haven't exactly seen any horror-flick blood-sucking going on but I did see, on a broadcast, one of the teen drama club breaking a tree with a kick. I don't mean... a sapling. I mean a tree. Also moving mostly too fast for my eyes to follow."

[visual] because why not? XD

[numbersnfigures.livejournal.com]

Spencer squinted at the screen.

"Did you... how did you make that so big?"

As brilliant as Spencer was, technology completely eluded him. Thankfully back home he had Garcia to help him, but here he was lost. He was honestly lucky that he had figured out how to make calls on this thing, turn on the visual component and locate people using it. That was the extent of his knowledge as far as the tablet was concerned.

[Visual]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

Michael blinked back at the wunderkind FBI agent, Spencer not being top on the list of people he expected to call him and this not being top on the list of questions he might expect Spencer to ask him. "Hi to you too, Doc," he said, thinking; "Okay -- does this thing really not come with a manual anywhere?"

[Visual]

[numbersnfigures.livejournal.com]

"I've never seen any such manual."

Spencer might have been able to manage if there were printed instructions. At least then he could have something to start with.

"I think they expect for us to figure this out ourselves."

[Visual]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, it seems like it. Sorry to hear that." It was pretty hard to give a demonstration with the device you were using to talk to someone. If Sam were here Michael could've used his tablet to show Spencer, but that ran the risk of double-broadcasting the conversation to everyone through Sam's tablet and Michael didn't particularly feel like hearing his commentary on the subject. "Okay, so, you see these panels along the side, they fold out to broaden it, kind of, you can pull on it to pop out the hinges. And the screen itself hinges back like a monitor."

[Visual]

[numbersnfigures.livejournal.com]

Spencer moved out of the range of vision so that he could check out what Michael was telling him.

"Oh!"

A moment later he refocused, this time positioned back a bit further as he had managed to increase the size of the screen. He set the tablet down on the table in front of him.

"Thank you."

audio;

[thenormalsquint]

Didn't your mom ever tell you that counters aren't furniture?

[Shut up, Angela. You've done worse on your own counters.]

[Voice]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

Mom struck a paranoid chord with him as he thought for a moment about someone twisting his arm that way. But that wasn't likely. "Angela?" he identified the voice as he switched it to phone-mode himself. "I don't know, I think she might've left that manners lesson out the first go-round. Or maybe I just wasn't paying attention in class."

[Voice]

[thenormalsquint]

The one and only. [Well, the one and only Angela Montenegro.] Did you miss the section on sharing too?

[Voice]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

"Sharing?" repeated Michael politely, tablet now balanced on his knees. "Could've been. It was a long time ago. Why, was there something you needed?"

[Voice]

[thenormalsquint]

Entertainment?

[A bored Angela is a dangerous thing. The bright side is that at least it's still daylight outside so the bars and nightclubs don't have to deal with her right now. Good news for them, not so good news for the rest of Taxon.]

How are you holding up?

[Visual]

[noheatnikki.livejournal.com]

Kate had been tinkering with her tablet, and somehow ended up with a view of a good-looking guy in a nice-looking house. Yeah, Kate hasn't really figured out the tablet yet, but she figured it would be rude not to speak.

"Nice house."

[Visual]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

That put Michael at a brief loss. "Thanks?" He blinked at the woman on the other side of the screen. "I -- like yours too? Ms. ...?"

[Visual]

[noheatnikki.livejournal.com]

"Beckett. Detective Kate Beckett."

She hadn't quite broken the habit of using her title, even though it didn't mean much here in Taxon. She turned around to look at the room behind her, then turned back to the screen.

"Well, this is Reid's place, but thanks. Sorry, I'm still working on this whole tablet thing. It's nice to meet you, Mr..?"

[Visual]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

For a place with no law, Taxon sure was overheating with law enforcement. Michael couldn't say he was unhappy to hear it, though; he mustered a smile for the woman on the other side of the screen. "Michael Westen," he said. "Hey. You know Agent -- Dr. Reid? I'm staying here with a buddy," he glanced over his shoulder, "but I don't think he's home right now."

[Visual]

[noheatnikki.livejournal.com]

Kate nodded, propping her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, I live with Reid. Who's your buddy? I'm still trying to meet people around here."

[ voice ]

[lajolieblonde.livejournal.com]

[ sookie's voice is friendly, if a little strained. taxon's... well. it's not anything like she's used to. ]

You figurin' out how to use those things? I'm still laggin' behind, I can barely get it to quit turnin' on all by itself.

[Voice]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

Michael picked out the friendly female voice and placed it as Southern, maybe Cajun, definitely unfamiliar. "I still haven't figured that one out," he said with sympathy he didn't have to feign. "You new here too? I'm Michael."

[ voice ]

[lajolieblonde.livejournal.com]

Sometimes I think I got it fine, then it just turns right on the minute I turn my back. I don't know if it's broken or if they just like us flashin' things all over without knowin' it.

[ sookie nods, then sighs when she realizes the connection is just voice. acclimating is taking time. ]

Just under two weeks. And I keep hearin' I was here before that, but I could swear I've never seen this place in my life. It's not somethin' you just up and forget, and I-- [ she breaks off, coughs quietly. ] Lord, I'm sorry. I get goin' when I'm nervous, and it gets hard to stop. I'm Sookie.

[Voice]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

The woman sounded upset, which kicked in his first-response reflexes to an upset person: "It's okay," he said a little awkwardly (it was always Sam who could comfort people; Michael wasn't the people person); "I'm pretty nervous myself, actually, I don't blame you for feeling nervous. It's not hard to be. If it helps you any," he paused, "I used to work for the government, Special Operations, and I still can't say I'm not freaked out a little over this. I don't think anyone actually knows where we are."

Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if telling an anxious person that a CIA operative was also anxious actually was going to be comforting, but: Sam, people person, Michael, thinking person, goddamn it. "If it makes you feel any better," he offered, "we're trying to get together some kind of ground-level law enforcement here and I'm not the only one looking for answers as to where we are and how to get out of here. If you need anything, feel free and let me know; I live in Speares. Where are you from? I was in Miami before I got here."

[ voice ]

[lajolieblonde.livejournal.com]

At least I'm not the only one left feelin' like I'm tryin' to fit together a puzzle without knowin' what the picture looks like.

[ sookie sighs again, then stiffens her shoulders and forces friendliness back into her tone. gran didn't raise her to whine about life instead of living it. ]

Bon Temps, born and raised. [ the pride in her voice is obvious, and the backwoods of lousiana accent she's normally rocking slips into proper french pronunciation for a moment. ] It's a little town in Louisiana? Just an hour or so outta Shreveport.