now i rock a house party at the drop of a hat.

[eventextras.livejournal.com]

It's around five o'clock in the morning when the citizens of Taxon find themselves inexplicably transported into rooms within the Sanctuary. Doors are left open and beds unmade, food abandoned and lights left on, still shining brightly for those who were awake and are no longer present. The Extras don't seem to notice the captive population's sudden disappearance, continuing on with their business as usual.

For those relocated, though, it's an entirely different story.

They find themselves in rooms with white, alabaster walls that gives them an almost too-clean feeling, as if the entire place was sanitized prior to their arrival. The room assignments are seemingly random, people placed on floors with those they don't know and don't like, people they would rather not be within twenty feet of. It matters not, for what's done is done and cannot be undone. For those who happen to have pets, they'll find them waiting for their owners in the rooms as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

The only thing the captives have managed to bring with them is the clothes on their back and the tablets. On them, they find the following message:

SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY WHILE WE ADDRESS CERTAIN TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

Unfortunately for those who try to find a means of escape, they'll discover there is none. Leaving the Sanctuary will prove to be as difficult as leaving Taxon itself. However, if one heads down the right corridor and the right floor, they'll find something else entirely lurking in their midst...

( ooc | sorry for the delay in posting! your mods were otherwise occupied with things of the irl variety this morning. THIS BE A PARTY POST, Y'ALL. room assignments are here, and refer back to the sott post proper for any additional information. please contact us with any questions/concerns you may have in regards to this plot. ♥ )

Comments

[location] placeholder tag because it's been a long day

[hasaheart]

On the eleventh floor, Wyatt Cain suddenly finds himself staring out from a completely unfamiliar window. Having been one of the captive residents for seven months now, he really ought have learned to expect the unexpected.

However, being transported from one place to another in the blink of an eye reminds him entirely too much of his Arrival to reprimand himself for a lack of vigilance.

And so, dressed in a plain shirt and pale trousers (as be his wont), he goes in search of others stuck in the same proverbial boat up a certain metaphorical creek as him.

[location] somewhere between the 16th and 11th floors?

[stepintoshadows.livejournal.com]

Once confident he has committed all the most important details to paper, Rorschach goes wandering; he may be irritated by the situation he has been placed in, but inconvenience is no excuse for a lapse in routine. He is just as capable of investigating properly without his face, it's just...less than ideal.

Bare feet pad down the halls, protective layers out of reach as thoroughly as the insulating white and black, pinstriped trousers and filthy undershirt the only things the captors thought to leave him with. He dislikes being this exposed, this vulnerable, but he will make do until he finds a way to change it. If the floor under his feet is cold to the touch he doesn't seem to mind or register; he has more important things to be concerned with than comfort at this point.

A few floors down from where he started, while stopped to investigate the level itself (if he's going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future he might as well be familiar with it) he comes across the taller man, recognizing him from the last time they met. He nods in greeting as he passes even though he doesn't expect to be recognized himself, and watches Cain intently for a few long moments stretched out to the point of uncomfortable, attempting to assess whether or not he may have any helpful information.

[location] 4th floor, room 3

[iminmynightie.livejournal.com]

Amy opens her eyes slowly, trying to focus. Her forehead creases with confusion as she finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings and suddenly she sits bolt upright.

"Wha? Where...?" She looks all around her, then throws the covers back, jumping onto her knees to look out the window. It would be too much to expect she was sent back to the TARDIS or Leadworth, she supposed.

Turning back, she catches sight of the tablet and snatches it up, reading the message and letting out a snort.

"Technical difficulties? What's broken now, hamsters?"

Amy sets the tablet back down and heads to the door, not expecting she'll be able to leave. But to her surprise, it opens and she finds herself looking down a short, nondescript hallway opening into an area filled with what looks like storage lockers. With a shrug, she slips into the hall in nothing but a knee length nightie to go explore.

[location: thirteenth floor] all that I have is on the floor;

[secretshame]

On the thirteenth floor, Jenna wakes up somewhere completely new. She blinks a few times and stares at this different room. Okay this is definitely ranking pretty high on the creepy meter and she hasn't had nearly enough time to get used to Taxon for this sort of thing. Even glancing at the tablets isn't helpful. That message is just... not useful.

So, Jenna decides to peek into the hallway, glad for once that she hadn't actually managed to get all the way undressed last night or this would be even more awkward than it already is.

"Elena? Damon?"

She'd call for Stefan, but... cover.

all that I have is on the floor;

[whoneedsrules.livejournal.com]

Having descended down from the sixteenth floor while on a lookout for familiar faces (yes, she could just look for them over the tablets but the old-fashioned way is just so much more fun when you're a vampire), Katherine's sharp hearing picks up Jenna calling for Elena and Damon.

She tries to resist the temptation. Really, she does.

And clearly fails, as she pads nearly soundlessly over to Jenna's door, making sure nobody is around to see when she boosts the final few steps with just a bit of vampire speed.

"Hi, Jenna," she greets pleasantly with a charming smile, standing in front of her 'aunt'. Jenna, you can probably tell from the curls, the lapis lazuli necklace and the short black nightie that this is not Elena.

[location] 7th Floor, Room 3 & Corridor

[vampbogeyman.livejournal.com]

Anita was really getting tired of waking up in strange places.

Stabbings, she could handle. Vampire bites, cuts, scratches, bruises, broken bones, any manner of injury, she could deal with. These were all tangible things that could be dealt with in a manner that gave her some sense of accomplishment, even if she wasn't terribly fond of the injuries themselves. It was a malady she had some degree of control over.

But this? This constant moving, waking up to yet another unfamiliar set of walls?

Okay. Yeah. This was getting old fast.

She grumbled as she sat up in bed, ruffling the back of her hair with her hand before raking fingers through it, a haphazard way of grooming herself. Well, if she was going to be somewhere unfamiliar, she was glad she had chosen to sleep in jeans and a polo. It was a good rule of thumb, she felt, to prepare to be on the move at any time of day, with the new addendum of "especially when one has been kidnapped by aliens."

No shoes, though. Damn it. Reaching for her nearby tablet, she blinked several times in rapid succession as she read over the message that had appeared on the screen. "Technical difficulties? Seriously?"

She sighed heavily, getting to her feet and trudging towards the hallway in her socks. Time to take in the lay of the land, then.

[location 7th Floor Corridor]

[stacked]

Faith's in roughly the same boat; she's just far, far more half naked. Just be glad she's in sleep pants and a sports bra instead of bareass naked. It does mean her scar from where Buffy tried to gut her is on display, but she's kind of forgotten the slim line of scar tissue is something most people would find weird. "You got any idea what's up?"

[location: third floor kitchen | visual]

[selfmadman]

Sleep doesn't come easily anymore. Even when it comes quickly it's like slamming into a wall—he wakes ringing from a half-remembered impact. He wakes up tired. He wakes up shaken. He wakes up choking on air.

Don wakes up.

He cracks open an eye and rolls onto his back. He's in a hospital bed. No. The room is bare. He lies still a moment, silence piling up around him. He stumbles out of bed and to the door, sighs with relief when it opens. Hesitates before retrieving his tablet.

The hall funnels him through a cafeteria, the tile cold beneath his feet, and into a kitchen. He starts opening cupboards: they're fully stocked. Some of the foods he recognizes; some he doesn't. He moves on to the fridge, now inventorying supplies. The blood is behind a lettuce crisper and to the right of a block of cheddar cheese.

Don steps back, the door still hanging open, looks around without seeing anything. He turns on the faucet and splashes water over his face. Then he begins washing blood down the sink.

(Minutes later he'll switch his tablet on—the message no comfort now—and prop it next to the sink, affording a view of his hands, the line of buttons climbing his white pajamas, and the steady flow of blood as if from some inexhaustible wound.)

[visual]

[slayersidekick]

Willow's checking the tablets as she sits in her room, trying to figure out what's going on. Glancing around at the... non-existent areas, her eyes land on Don's transmission.

"Hey... what are you doing?"

That looks like... blood... in a kitchen?

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[stepintoshadows.livejournal.com]

The first thing Rorschach notices when he wakes is that his surroundings have changed.

He hadn't been asleep long, he knows that immediately; he rarely sleeps to begin with, a few hours snatched here and there when he can ill afford their absence, and even since his Arrival he has kept to the practice, seeing no reason to abandon routine now. He prides himself on his reactivity even when asleep, his ability to wake on a moment's notice the instant something in the environment changes, but he hadn't, not this time. It's concerning. Drugged, perhaps? It's the only explanation he can think of, the only one that makes sense, and the fact that it isn't the first time it has happened does little to ease his edginess.

The second thing he notices is that in addition to being in a room that isn't his own, even a borrowed one, his face is gone. It should be on the small table in the corner, and his clothes on the chair next to it, but both familiar furniture and his personal things (such as remain to him) are gone. He spends long moments tearing the room apart in search of it, frustrated and panicked at being left to face whatever lies outside unprotected, but he finds nothing but the clothes he is currently wearing, a few bare essentials that wouldn't be out of place in a standard motel, and the Thing he was given when he Arrived, shoved deep in the pocket of his pants as if he thought he could lose it that way if he only buried it deep enough. It isn't here. He quiets, and returns to the bed to think, carding long, knarled fingers angrily through greasy red strands gone coarse and wiry through years of neglect, as if the empty gesture will return the natural order of things.

The clinical, cold assurance the tablet provides when he finally brings himself to look soothes nothing, the words as empty and impersonal as the room. If anything it only feeds his frustration further, that their captors mock them with phrases that in different context would be meant as comfort. He dislikes confinement, even that which is claimed to be benign. Restricted freedom is never anything but a cage, no matter how well-intentioned its purpose.

If he were the type to give credence to it, he might interpret the circumstances as Divine Retribution, although he couldn't have said what he did to warrant being left this vulnerable, this...exposed, confined to Kovacs and his disgusting, pathetic, undeniably human weaknesses without even a glimpse at a means to rectify it. But such worries are useless, nothing but an exercise in futility. In a world where women are murdered while their saviors look on, frozen into impotence by their own apathy and morbid curiosity, a world where man's best friend consumes his children with slavering jaws and life goes on undisturbed...reading into the situation too closely is insanity. Another of their captors' experiments; release the mice in the maze and watch them scramble for the cheese, hoping a few tear each other apart in the race for the cats' amusement. Rorschach refuses to participate, refuses to be led where they want like cattle to slaughter. He will find his own way. He will keep a record of all he sees and hears, a record so that he can hopefully make sense of all this, so that a full account of all that transpires exists if it becomes necessary, so that, as futile as it may seem, at least later after the endgame is reached someone somewhere will know.

His journal is gone, the same as his face and the rest of his costume, left behind in the place outside that isn't here, but now that he has accepted the situation and has a Plan (albeit still rudimentary and half-formed) Rorschach is unperturbed. Paper is found, as is a pencil, shiny and unmarked and sharp as if it has never been used before. They will do. He leaves the cell slated to be his by groundskeepers he's never met and has no intention to mind and wanders out into the rest of the level before sitting down on the floor of the entryway to his new prison, amongst the doubtless equally artificial green. He fishes the tablet out of his pocket, dropping it on the ground nearby in case he finds a need for it, and begins to write.

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[givesahoot.livejournal.com]

Dan is carefully surveying his new surroundings also. He is wearing beige pajamas with a pattern of brown designs that once observed more closely resemble owls. He walks through the greenhouse, treading lightly and touching his hand to the plants as he passes.

As he moves through the greenhouse Dan notices another man standing on the opposite side of a row of plants between them. The man's features are mostly obscured by the greenery and Dan stays where he is until he can get a better look. For all he knew, this person could be a threat. Dan knows that he can take care of himself in a fight, but this city was different from back home. If this person had something to do with the newest glitch, he needed to be careful. He continues his walk, not wanting to alarm the other man into something drastic, but Dan shifts his position to be ready to defend himself if need be.

[location: tenth floor / ninth floor kitchen | locked visual to ANGEL]

[slayersidekick]

Having woken up, yet again, somewhere she's not familiar with, Willow takes the time to figure out just what in the name of everything is going on. She's never seen this little room before - it's definitely not part of the castle and it looks too modern for anywhere else she's seen. Cautiously, she gets up and finds her tablet both nearby and on.

"What the heck does that mean?" she wonders aloud, staring at the message on her screen.

Well, time to really wake up and figure it out. And that's about when she sees what's happening in the third floor kitchen. (Eventually, she makes it out of her room, down the hall, and to the ninth floor kitchen - after quite a few wrong turns trying to find said closest kitchen - where she blearily looks around for food at the same time she checks the tablets.) No... no, no, no, no! She doesn't even know if there are other vampires, nor does she care if Drusilla's going to go crazy over this. All she knows is that Angel's here and if he's trapped like she is, then he's going to need that blood. Like hell is she going to let it all go to waste!

She bolts to the fridge. It's time to start stuffing her arms.

Once she's back in her room, she makes a locked visual feed to Angel.

"Hey, Angel? There's blood in the kitchens, but... I-I'm not sure how much is left." She pauses, turning her tablet to show him the pile on her bed. It's not huge, but it's not small, either. "I managed to snag some from the ninth floor, though, so i-if you know any other vampires who need any..."

She trails off. So far, Angel and Drusilla are the only ones she for sure knows of, but knowing Taxon, there are probably others with souls like Angel. There's no reason for them to starve just because someone's paranoid.

[ ooc: willow can be interrupted at any point, either while she's just getting up, walking through the halls, in the kitchen poking around, in the kitchen taking the blood, or running from the kitchen to her room with her arms full of blood bags. Up to you :3 ]

[ visual | locked to angel & willow ]

[undoing.livejournal.com]

Angel's pissed, for lack of a better word. He's been here for nearly two years now, and has had just about enough of the hamsters toying with him - with all of them. This is just the latest issue added to a long list of grievances that give fuel to a very dark corner of Angel's mind that's tied into his demon and that part of himself he doesn't much care for. If and when Angel met the hamsters, it wasn't going to be pretty and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

It's probably a good thing Angel won't be one of the ones to encounter the aliens during this entrapment.

Hearing Willow's voice on the tablet, he moves over to where he discarded it on the poor excuse for a bed, momentarily abandoning the notion of leaving the room to explore and hopefully find his son.

"Yeah?" He responds, picking up as he sits down on the edge of the bed. "Oh. Blood. I... I didn't even think of that." He probably should've, though. "I'll see if they need any."

If asked about 'they', Angel would point towards Godric and leave Rose out of it. He made a promise to keep her secret and he intended to keep it. Angel was a lot of things, but he was a man of his word within the boundaries of good reason to keep it, and he'd yet to see a good enough reason to go against it.

[visual / location: ninth floor]

[aintnoconvict]

"Oh, what now?"

And so Glitch, clad in ornately paisley blue and gold silk pajama pants and a tatty blue t-shirt, emerged from room four and blinked blearily around the hall and...kitchen. Quaint, but not the palace, and he wrinkled his nose at the text message on the tablet before clicking to visual.

"'Technical difficulties'? I-is that supposed to be some improvement on...that other word?"

[visual]

[hasaheart]

"What, 'malfunction'?" Cain replied with a small, enigmatic smile. Contrary to popular belief or first impressions, Cain actually didn't cope too badly with change.

Stress, he could deal with as well, given the right circumstances (and the right amount of it, as any man would break under too much pressure).

"Is it just me, or did they amp up the Sanctuary?"

[visual | location: second floor]

[defenestration]

In the normal course of things, Adrian would be wandering around the Sanctuary in his birthday suit. But out of consideration for Dan, and now for the fact that he lives in an office high rise, he's taken up the temporary habit of sleeping clothed.

If one can call purple silk pajama bottoms 'clothed'.

He's not happy about this new arrangement, that much is obvious from the mild frown on his face as he walks the halls of the second floor, tense and alert. Once he's sure that there's no immediate obvious threat, he turns on his tablet.

"Does anyone have any idea what's going on, other than 'technical difficulties'?"

[visual]

[patricide]

When Adrian sees Lex he will notice several things about his boss: that Lex is surrounded by storage units, is clad in only his underwear, and looks rather unhappy.

"Judging by all the activity on the tablet it seems like everyone who isn't an extra is asking that same question."

[voice / location: eighth floor]

[rereremembered.livejournal.com]

In his years of traveling, Fitz had perfected the art of sleeping in the bare essentials: a pair of clean y-fronts and t-shirt. This way if an excitable Time Lord banged on his door at odd hours he could roll out of bed, haul on the nearest pair of jeans, grab his jacket, and be ready for adventures in roughly thirty seconds.

So when he woke in the familiar but utterly unexpected confines of the Sanctuary, he rolled out of bed, sprang (or staggered) to his feet, and looked around for any other sort of clothing. There were no jeans, and more worryingly no jacket which meant no cigarettes. He flung open the door to his room and stood there in nothing but pants and this shirt (http://www.threadless.com/product/2124/The_Milky_Way/tab,guys/style,shirt), and snarled into his tablet.

"Where the hell are my smokes? And my trousers?"

Fitz Kreiner: man of priorities.

[location: eighth floor]

[entractes.livejournal.com]

Kurt is still in a bit of a confused daze over being completely displaced again for the second time in a month. He can tell by the architecture that he's in the Sanctuary though (successfully dashing hopes that he had gone home). Even though he found the kitchen on the third floor, he's just not interested in what it has to offer, and is currently trying to find some other food-providing establishment on the upper levels, grumbling the entire way because his face care regime was likely never going to stay on track in this city.

Fitz Kreiner suddenly appearing in the hallway in his underwear: pretty much the opposite of food and/or moisturizers. Kurt just gasps loudly in shock and averts his gaze. He uses his hand as an extra layer of protection for his poor virgin eyes.

"Ohhh my goodness. Just what are you doing?"

[visual | location: eighth floor, room 5]

[verylittlesugar]

For a while, Mattie just sits on the edge of the bed in this new room she finds herself in, dressed in a neck-to-ankles white nightgown, reminding herself that she is not the kind of person who panics. Once she has a handle on herself, she switches on her tablet.

"Is anyone out there?"

She feels proud of herself for how even her voice sounds.

[visual]

[hasaheart]

Be it from good, old fashioned civility, or a deeply rooted protective streak, Cain can never turn his back (or a deaf ear) on someone in distress.

No matter how bravely they bear it.

"You're not alone, Miss. Seems like we've all been relocated, for the time being."

A beat. "There's a kitchen on the floor above you. I'm heading there, thought I'd fix something hot to drink...and I wouldn't mind some company."

[visual | location: second floor, room 6]

[taintedrose]

The last thing that Rose remembers is being in her room, unable to sleep due to the pain. When she wakes up, she finds herself in a different place all together and feels much more worse. And also incredibly hungry. She can't stay stuck here and endanger anyone so Rose tries to get out of the Sanctuary.

But something is preventing her from leaving and after a few failed attempts, Rose goes back to her room again and barricades herself in again. Maybe she can wait it out and she'll go back to normal again. No one would have to die.

Rose looks even worse than she did a few days ago.

[visual | location: all over]

[eggplantgout.livejournal.com]

Jason Stackhouse is currently wandering through the halls naked and carrying a rubber chicken in hand.

That is all you need to know.

[ location: A PLACE idk ]

[lajolieblonde.livejournal.com]

"Oh my God, Jason?" Cue Sookie covering her eyes in horror. "Why are you wandering around naked?"

[garg-elisa.livejournal.com]

Elisa had been gliding, when all of a sudden, she had found herself back in one of the Sanctuary rooms. She was reasonably certain no real amount of time has passed, especially since the clock on her tablet seemed to agree. Still a couple hours before dawn.

She flipped through her tablet's channels. "...I'm guessing I'm not the only one who ended up back here?"

[cametolife]

"Nope," came Liz's prompt answer across the tablet from where she was placed, in another room on the sixth floor. "I think they might've gotten everyone."

[location] Ninth Floor...more or less

[willkeeptrying.livejournal.com]

Wikus supposes he shouldn't be surprised. He has appeared somewhere without remembering it once already, the second time is almost...

Alright, it's just as disorienting as the first. Not to mention disconcerting, like some kind of dream or nightmare or something. Although at least he has clothes on, albeit only pajamas, so it isn't one of Those dreams.

He makes his way out into the hallway, checking his tablet as he walks and not really paying attention to where he's headed, or the fact that it switches to transmit when he does, showing a not particularly flattering image of pre-shave-and-coffee Wikus, complete with bed head. Sorry for the inconvenience, he reads, and really it has the ring of that book he read once in college. The one about the hitchhiker in space. "Don't Panic," he comments to himself, and the simple phrase seems exponentially more humorous than it probably actually is, resulting in a snicker that sounds at least half forced.

The Arm's only halfway secured, the new circumstances distracting him enough not to fuss with it too much, and while it's covered for the most part, wrapped tightly under the shirt he'd actually bothered to save when he arrived (the one not soaked in blood and who knew what else), it's loose at the end, leaving the tips of strange fingers poking out when he fidgets in his nervousness. He doesn't seem to notice, more intent on finding other people so he can ask them what happened.

"Ah. Hello? Anyone?"

[location] Ninth Floor...totally

[aintnoconvict]

The weirdness of the arm will likely go unnoticed (for now) by the guy with the zipper on his head who is casually sitting at a table and peeling an orange. He is wondering what came first, the color or the fruit, and why lemons aren't yellows (or yellow things lemon in color) when he hears an unfamiliar voice.

"Someone!" Glitch calls and looks around, waggling citrusy fingers in Wikus' direction. "Not just anyone but...specific person here. Hello!"

Twelfth Floor - Gym

[smecker.livejournal.com]

Paul wakes in sweat pants and a plain t-shirt, rubbing at his face and then freezing because this isn't the bed he went to sleep on. Ten minutes later and he's stalking through the twelfth-floor gym in a really pissy mood, smacking his tablet hard against each weight and exercise machine he passes.

It doesn't do anything, of course, and he knows it won't, and he knows none of them will be able to get out of here until their captors say that damn well can.

Still, there's a grim satisfaction to be had in bringing the little keyboard and screen down against treadmills and bikes. Crack. Crack. Crack.

Eventually, Paul gives up. He's mostly calmed down by the time he finds the exercise mats in a corner, with a view out the windows of an artificial sunrise.

Ten minutes later, Paul's doing yoga, because the initial anger has passed and he hears the voice of his mental doctor telling him about his blood pressure.

Stretchy-bendy guy is stretching-and-bending away (http://pics.livejournal.com/dien/pic/002ettxs), over here.

[location]

[hasaheart]

Some time later, well into the new day, Cain makes his way in the other direction: namely, up from 'his' floor.

He doesn't entirely expect to see friends contorting themselves into giant pretzels. You know, just because they can.

"...what the livin' dead are you doing?"

Tenth Floor - and then the Fifth floor, Library

[imperial-long.livejournal.com]

His books are gone. This is much more important to him than the fact that he's now in a yet-smaller prison, in closer contact with many other people than he really prefers to be.

Long makes no broadcasts of his own, as it is quickly evident that everyone else here is trapped as well. He sets out to explore-- he hadn't seen much of the Sanctuary at his first arrival, being too interested in seeing the city, and in finding his rooms-- and eventually walks into the library.

Cue a sigh of bliss. Long busies himself among the stacks, and soon has found a comfortable chair in which to ensconce himself. It's near the entrance of the library, so anybody coming in may find him curled into the chair like a cat, a stack of ten books on the floor next to him, quite lost in the volume he's currently reading. (Which appears to be a thrilling treatise on the role of disease in world history.)

[ location: library ]

[cheerioless.livejournal.com]

After finally getting her bearings of being back in the Sanctuary, Quinn decides to go exploring. She wants to research further into vampires and the attack on her the previous night, but she has no idea how to start.

Luckily she finds a library, immediately goes inside and is instantly overwhelmed. She has no idea where to start looking.

She notices someone sitting in a chair by the door, with a stack of books next to him. Quinn kicks her pride out the door and turns to him. "Silly question, but if I wanted to find a book on...monsters," where would I look.

For some reason she can't out and out say 'vampires.'

[ location: second floor / visual ]

[gotcouplings.livejournal.com]

It's Taxon. Kaylee isn't all that surprised to wake up and find herself shoved in some sterilized room. Startled at first, maybe, and curious as to how exactly she got there, but not exactly surprised. What does throw her off is rolling out of bed, sheets in tow, to find her tablet and discover the date.

Over a month. How the di yu is she missing over a month?

Swearing, Kaylee wraps the sheets tighter around herself and switches on the tablet. She tries to look as normal as possible, tries not to show the panic that's rising in her throat. A lot could have happened in over a month...

"River? Jayne?"

[ visual ]

[biverbam.livejournal.com]

When River's end of the visual clicks on, she's in an elevator. A little drippy but all there.

"It's temporary displacement--" she stops there and looks suddenly very deeply concerned. "Where did you go?"

[location/visual] Twelfth Floor Corridor

[prophecy-boy.livejournal.com]

Connor was still new enough to Taxon that waking up somewhere other than the hotel was a surprise, one that induced a mild panic attack before he collected himself and fumbled for his tablet. He had to admit, they were pretty useful, if strange, and he was getting progressively more adept at using his at a pretty reasonable rate.

He stepped into the hallway to search for other signs of life before he started up the video feed, finding the place empty for the time being.

"Hey. Where's everyone else? What's going on?"

[location/visual] Twelfth Floor Corridor

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

Dawn's room is far, far below the twelfth floor, but she's currently exploring. In shortie pjs with baby ducks on them so maybe not the most dignified exploring, but exploring nonetheless. She's careful to scuff her feet a little as she comes up behind Connor.

"We're all here. It's... a kidnapping in a kidnapping." Thrilled, Dawn is not.

[ location: ninth floor | anywhere ]

[aregulargirl.livejournal.com]

Max was less than amused to wake up in a single room in a building she didn't recognize - or at least, one she hadn't visited since she first arrived in the city because she hasn't had any reason or desire to. Not that this is a new trick for the hamsters, but this time it looks like they've got everybody in one place. She's relieved that it's not in a candy house this time, but not pleased that she can't seem to hatch anything aside from her yoga pants and tank top to wear.

After a while of checking the tablets to see what's been said about what's going on, she leaves Selina (http://www.valuemd.com/attachments/auc-medical-school-classifieds/10996d1254006087-cutest-fluffy-black-kitten-080.jpg) in her room and goes to see who's located where.

[ visual | location: sixteenth floor → anywhere ]

[whoneedsrules.livejournal.com]

It's clear to Katherine something is awry as soon as sleep gives way to consciousness. The sounds and smells around are all different, and the thread-count of these sheets can't be compared to the ones she keeps in her bed at the hotel. She manages to suppress the impulse to jump from the strange bed with a swiftness unattainable to normal humans only barely. Instead, Katherine sits up slowly, taking in the sterile-looking room she's somehow been transported into during the night. How did she not wake up? Damn alien shenanigans.

Untangling herself from the bedsheets, Katherine gets up and checks the tablet, sneering at the message displayed. "How wonderful."

Pushing back sleep-tousled curls, Katherine glances down at the black satin nightie that hits her mid-thigh. Perhaps not the most appropriate nightwear for a seemingly seventeen-year-old girl, but does she care? No. Besides, it doesn't seem like the hamsters have provided for a change of clothing. Katherine shrugs and pads barefoot to the door of the room, pulling it open and stepping into the hallway. Curious yet cautious, the vampire sets about wandering around, looking for familiar faces and getting the lay of the land, so to say.

[ visual ]

[aregulargirl.livejournal.com]

Max replies from the dining area on the third floor, a mug of coffee in her hands. She does not look terribly pleased.

"That's not exactly the word I'd use for it."

Location: 8th floor, general

[ironfright.livejournal.com]

Since Puck lived in the Sanctuary already, there hadn't been a need for him to be transferred there and so he didn't even realize that anything had happened until he tried to enter his usual room on the eighth floor and been rudely denied by the door. His nose and pride smarting in equal amounts, he gave the doorjam a firm shake that ended in a rather immature and petulant kick. He'd just started to project an attitude that wasn't overtly hostile to everything and everyone, and now his habitual scowl was back.

Grabbing his tablet, he typed out a quick message:

[text]

[selfmadman]

Try pushing.

[ visual/location : floor nine kitchen ]

[lajolieblonde.livejournal.com]

After the whole mess with Don and the blood, Sookie needs some stress relief. (She also knows that certain people-- like her brother, for example-- will try and exist only on junk food unless someone offers up food.) So this broadcast has her well at work cooking, the oversize Bon Temps football tshirt she's wearing already covered in flour.

"I know not all of us can cook, so if anyone's hungry I don't mind workin' in the kitchen. At least it'll give me something to do, instead of fretting about bein' cooped up." Her expression goes scolding for a moment. "Because unlike certain folks here, I think everybody's got a right to eat."

Subtext: screw you, Don Draper.

[ location : floor nine kitchen ]

[cheerioless.livejournal.com]

Quinn needs a break. She needs to stop thinking about vampires, because it makes her want to kick things, and unfortunately there is no Rachel Berry for her to take her frustrations out on. She explores the Sanctuary, even though it still makes her uneasy, she stops when she stumbles across the kitchen and see Sookie covered in flour.

"Need a hand?" she asks, entering the kitchen. Quinn is no expert at cooking, actually all she can make are cupcakes and various muffins.

[ visual / location : floor fifteen ]

[allthefunever.livejournal.com]

Hello Taxon. You wanted to see the groove of Damon's hipbones, right? And his abs. And his chest, and finally his vaguely amused face as he picks his tablet up and arches an eyebrow.

"I get it, we're trapped, technical difficulties, hamsters are awful, blah blah blah. Here's what I want to know: does anyone have any pants? Not that I care that much personally but--" he takes on a mock sanctimonious tone. "Someone should think of the children."

[ visual ]

[secretshame]

"Missing something, Damon?"

Because Jenna cannot leave well enough alone.

[ visual / location : fourteenth floor quinn's room ]

[cheerioless.livejournal.com]

When Quinn first wakes up she doesn't open her eyes, she wants to keep sleeping. Vague memories of the day before flicker through her mind, which make her want to sleep even more. It takes a few minutes before she finally opens her eyes, at first she thinks he might be in a hospital...or something. She glances at her tablet and seeing the message scowls. For a few moments she is angry, because enough is really enough. She wants to find the darn hamsters running this place and give them a piece of her mind, right after she finds out who attacked her.

She sits up stiffly and gently touches the bandages on her neck, it's still a bit sore. She runs a hand through her hair, and then adjusts it so it's on the side of her bite, covering it. She glances down at her nightie, making sure she is at least semi-decent before flicking the switch to make a transmission. For now she won't say a thing about the attack, unless someone directly asks her.

"I don't think I want to know the translation of technical difficulties," Quinn says.

[ visual | locked ]

[adeadringer.livejournal.com]

"I'm sure they're really sorry for the inconvenience," Elena replies, a weak smile accompanying the joke. She doesn't see the bandage, but she knows the bite is there, and a knot forms in her stomach. She feels awful that something like this happened to Quinn.

"How are you feeling?"