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

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~~]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Anything's appreciated," said Michael, sounding a little to himself like someone on the street with a clipboard and an environmental charity that needed donations. "So these -- 'Extras' -- like movie extras? -- does anyone know if they're, uh, biologically human or not? Like I get that they're not cognitively fully functioning, but I don't know if they're machines or brainwashed people or what."

I have no idea.

[They seem human physically to Angela, but mentally, the Extras seem like nothing more than empty cardboard boxes waiting to be filling with whatever thoughts they're allowed to think. She bites her lip before answering, wondering if Brennan could help him out more than she can.]

I try not to talk to them since they creep me out, so examining them is totally beyond anything I'd want to do.

She didn't seem all that interested in discussing that. All right. You couldn't expect everyone to take an active interest in what was happening to them. Michael could work with that. "So," said Michael, changing the subject, "Angela. What did you do before you came here, if you don't mind my asking? You got a last name?"

[No, she's certainly not, given that there wasn't much she could discuss about them. As long as they stayed on their side of Taxon and left her alone, Angela didn't care.]

Forensic facial reconstruction, but I'm technically and preferably an artist. And it's Montenegro. Your turn.

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

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