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

The former cop, if we're being picky. Cain isn't (not about words or preconceptions other than his own, that is).

But what he is, is tired and weary and very much not up for any kind of attitude. Walk away he tells himself in the blissful silence of his own mind. Just walk away.

But he doesn't, instead pausing in his step, shackles already rising from recognition of the voice. "Yeah. Interesting. Might give you an exercise in social interaction. Not your forte, is it?"

Rorschach would argue he isn't giving an attitude. An attitude would imply an investment in the conversation beyond what he's already committed; he would be entirely content for the not-cop (once a cop always a cop, as far as he's concerned) to leave him in peace. It's far easier to watch people when they're not paying any attention to you.

But alas. A response is required. He shrugs, a gesture which could really mean just about anything but in this instance is simply "so?.

"Few deal in truths; they're much more concerned with appearances. Superficial attachments. Speaking in falsehoods to gain favor, inquiring after answers they don't hear. Never saw the point."

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

[location] psychic always wins brownie points with me

[location] hooray for brownie points! only trumped by actual brownies