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

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. ♥ )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?"

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!"

"Hello...?" Wikus sounds a little uncertain as he tries to weigh whether a strange man with a zipper on the top of his head is an improvement to the situation or not. He finds it difficult to keep from staring, or from wondering what lies beneath the zipper. A brain? Probably a brain, because he wouldn't be able to walk or talk if he didn't have one. Right? But why have it all...open like that? It just seems like a bad design flaw.

He's not going to look. He decides this long after it's apparent that he's been staring, but better late than never?

Cue an attempt to get his mind back on track. "Ah. You haven't seen anyone else either, then?"

The staring he was accustomed to, and Glitch only acknowledged it with a rueful smile and a brief upward glance. Yep, headzipper, it's a thing.

"Oh, no, I've seen a few folks," he replied and set his roange down to tick them off on his fingers. "Willow took some blood, and and then I met Max, and and and I talked to Cain and DG on the tablet so...there's lotsa folks around. Including you." Pause. "And me, I'm Glitch, hi."

Wikus follows the trail of names with the barest of recognition. He's seen them mentioned on the gadget-y thing a few times, but he doesn't recall ever speaking to them personally, so they're more shadowy impressions of people than actual people. But he smiles brightly and nods appropriately anyway, determined to keep up, somehow getting the impression that he's probably supposed to know who they are.

"Oh, okay. That is a relief then, I'm not sure what I would think if there was no-one else in the building. I mean, I assumed there were, I just haven't seen any. I'm Wikus." He wants to ask about the zipper, or at least point it out (even if "did you know you have a zipper on your head?" seems a bit of a pointless question), but he manages to keep it to himself. If barely. Instead he offers a hand for a shake, since that's usually what you do when you meet people. "...Do you know why we're here, by any chance?"

As a social shortcut Glitch tended to think everyone knew who he did, based on the odds of other people being able to keep better track of folks. He he clambered to his feet to accept the handshake. "Nice meeting you, Wikus, I--"

Then he noticed The Arm and he froze, mouth open to ask exactly the sort of sort of question Wikus had so far avoided asking him. Slowly he lifted his gaze to the other man's face, expression a mix of bemusement and horror, then he froze, blinked, and was smiling again.

"I have no idea, i-it's probably some sorta glitch. Small g."

A glitch. Right. Okay, he'd heard of those, even if most of his knowledge was limited to the usual kind, a freezing of pixels in a game or that whole mess on the internet one where people weren't able to kill that big monster thing because the creators hadn't thought it necessary.

He tended to stick to Halo because it just seemed less complicated, but he'd heard things.

"It makes it sound like some kind of video game, don't you think? Like Tron or something." ...Not that Tron was a video game, not really, but he'd seen the movie once when he was younger. It seemed a reasonable jump to make.

He'd caught the look, the shock and horror, and after a quick look down had been able to identify the source. He gave a chagrined and apologetic smile, something far too tight and forced to be real, and curled the fingers in self-consciously, pulling the arm in closer and doing his best to hide it from sight. It seemed a strange reaction given that the man had a zipper holding his head closed, but he opted not to judge considering his own feelings on the subject.

Glitch wanted to ask what a video game was, or what Tron was, but he got got distracted by Wikus' odd little smile and the withdrawing and concealing of-

"Oh." He knew that smile, he hadn't had use for it in a long time but...back in the O.Z. mothers would put themselves between him and their children, older folks would give him a wide berth, and younger folks would stare with disgust and fear. All he could do was try and distract with a smile, and smooth his unruly hair over the zipper to hide the source of their mistrust.

"I'm sorry," he said and took a polite half step back. "I didn't mean to...I couldn't help-- well it's not like I've got any room to...I'm sorry for the offense."

Wikus shook his head quickly, the forced smile growing fractionally as he tried to smooth the whole thing over, words tumbling out of his mouth almost faster than his brain could process them. "No, no, it, ah. There was no offense. Just, ah. Habit, you know. It is not a very nice thing to look at." Which was a very diplomatic way of putting it, in his opinion. "But you are probably familiar enough with that yourself, eh?" He laughed weakly, uncertain if it was really appropriate under the circumstances, but hey. They had something in common. Sort of.

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

[location] Ninth Floor...more or less

[location] Ninth Floor...totally

[location] Ninth Floor...totally

[location] Ninth Floor

[location] Ninth Floor

[location] Ninth Floor

[location] Ninth Floor

[location] Ninth Floor

[location] Ninth Floor