taxonomites | [ visual ] [ castle summers ] shout when you wanna get off the ride

Taxon goes through phases, Dawn knows that. Other than Kirk, Faith, River, and technically-- if you base it on entrance date instead of longevity-- Dean, she's the person who's been around the longest, so she really knows. Person A goes, Person B enters. Person A comes back, with or without memories. Eventually, Person B leaves too. There's not so much a pattern-- at least, not an obvious one based on anything even resembling time-- but the fact that there are cycles are obvious, once you figure everything out.

It's December again, and last year that meant-- things, things she's not dealing with right now (or ever) thanks very much. This year it means Dawn's unsettled, uncertain. And with so many of the new people actually... doing things, like grown-up police tv things about law and order and trying to figure things out, not just rebelling by stealing your clothes because you're really annoyed with everything. Maybe Dawn is getting complacent. Maybe that's part of the plan around here, grind the people who will just settle in and live down until Taxon becomes normal. Routine.

Well, from now on the hamsters picked the wrong person on that score. Kirk was talking about that guide and welcoming committee, and that Sam guy asked for names... if they can step up, Dawn might as well deal with her emo and restlessness by doing what she does best.

Which means a trip to the nearest hatch to grab new pens and four packs of brightly colored index cards, and on a whim a collection of neon topped push-pins. Time to take a page from Andrew's playbook and make a Board. The kind of board that houses Very Important Information.

When her tablet turns on, Dawn's been hard at work for a couple hours and the sky outside her window is getting dark. The board is mostly covered, index cards with things like "Glitches", "Dates", "Returning Players Part One (With Memories)", "Returning Players Part Two (Without Memories)", and "Hamsters????" written in clear, large letters, the cards crowding in and overlapping each other, Dawn's neat handwriting tidy and small beneath each larger title. One card in the middle only has four names, in numbered order one to four: James Kirk, River Tam, Faith Lehane, Dawn Summers. There's smaller writing off to the side, but it's too small to read from anywhere but up close. Something quiet and recognizably indie pop plays softly in the background and Dawn takes a step back to look at the board with no small amount of satisfaction.

"Okay. It's not translating stupidly rigid ancient prophecies, but whatever. Take that, hamsters." Turning back to her desk to grab a sip of soda, she spots the recording light on her tablet and rolls her eyes, bringing a hand up to shove at the hair falling in her face. "Oh my God, really? Ugh." She takes a long sip of Coke, then offers the tablet a half-hearted wave. "Hi, people randomly catching this broadcast. Sorry about the whole... reality tv slash Pay-Per-View of boring research things, don't mind me. No seriously, don't. I'm in the gathering stage, it's uber-nerdy and boring. Also, I kind of have this feeling the hamsters watch-- anyway. Sorry for being geeky all over you guys, have a nice day." Glancing at the window, she amends, "Night, I mean."

She presses the button to end the feed, shaking her head and already turning back to stare at the board.

[ ooc | in and out due to christmas stuff, but i needed to get this up sob! still backtagging faith and damon i swear. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Does that make you Jiang Qing?

[ what? did we forget to mention that kirk is a huuuuuge history buff? we did? oh. well, hi. he is. ]

Guess that makes us something of the experts on this place.

Dork.

[ but dawn's totally grinning. kirk, she likes you so much better when you're not competing with her for buffy's attention. ]

We could form a cabal. With secret meetings, and maybe passwords. And a vaguely sinister mascot and motto in Latin. Because pop culture tells me that's what secret, elite cabals do.

I prefer the term 'history buff', thanks.

[ yes, it does seem that these two get along so much better without fighting for buffy's eye. ]

Commandeer one of the local's taverns to hold them.

Like I said, dork.

[ two nerds, nerding it out without squabbling over who should be the big summers' first priority. it's almost casablanca-esque. ]

We should have a vaguely threatening reputation. Also, alleged ties to the Illuminati.

Whatever.

[ though he doesn't sound annoyed, more like amused. oh, how time and a really bad break-up can change things. ]

Can one of us be a descendant of Jesus? [ why yes, that totally was a stab at dan brown, why do you ask? ]

I have it on really good authority the geek shall inherit the earth, so we're good.

[ what's next, dawn and angel getting along? ]

I was made instead of born. Can I have dibs? You can be secretly related to the royal family of somewhere.

Edited 2010-12-26 08:11 (UTC)

What, you a test tube baby?

[ and then he goes from curious to concerned. there's a lot of bad history in that topic, dawn. ]

You weren't... genetically engineered, were you? It's outlawed in my time.

[ there'd be a khan rant here, but alas, nu!kirk has not met the dude yet. ]

Not quite.

[ fffffffffffffff locking this. ]

Long, complicated story short: a bunch of monks made me out of swirly green power and Buffy's blood. I didn't exist until like five years ago.

So you're some human-swirly green power hybrid that rapidly aged?

[ welcome to twenty-third century thought. at least he doesn't think you're not real? ]

Not quite that either. They messed with everyone's memories. We all just... woke up one morning and thought I had always been there.

[ it's easier to talk about this than it used to be. ]

Edited 2011-01-03 04:37 (UTC)

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