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

Long blinks at being addressed, and out of innate, unquenchable politeness stands up to bow, tucking the robe (http://www.osfcostumerentals.org/stock/20th%20Century/Smoking%20Jackets,%20Robes%20&%20Nightgowns/Men%27s%20Robes,%20%20PJ%27s/slides/09025486%20Dressing%20Robe%20black%20gold%20dragon%20print,%20%20C52.JPG) he'd managed to hatch after several attempts more securely around himself as a safeguard against inadvertent immodesty. (Why are there so many young women in Taxon? And why does it amuse the aliens to deprive him of clothes and put him into absurd situations?)

He puts his book down on his chair and bows to the young lady. "Monsters, hm?" he says with a smile, as if it were all a game of children's fun and bedtime stories.

"What sort of monsters, miss? There are a thousand demons in a thousand hells, or so the saying goes. Ogres and banshees, ghosts and ghouls. Dragons, too." For a moment the smile broadens, and then he shrugs.

"Also, are you looking for fictional accounts, novels and so forth, or non-fiction?"

"Monsters," Quinn repeats. This being in sleepwear, is really weird.

"Vampires," she says trying not to look as serious as she feels and hoping that if there is Twilight in this guys world he isn't going to see her as a Twihard. No, nothing glittery about this, this was research.

"Non-fiction, real life accounts, folklore, anything."

"Vampires, very well," Long says, and steeples his fingers a moment before his face, eyes half-closed in thought. He hasn't been oblivious to the recent attacks, but has deemed there to be little enough he could do one way or the other, and has for the most part only observed. But a young lady asking for books...

"Well. Let us see what we can see," he says, and moves to one of the shelves. He has an idea of the layout now, and starts wordlessly pulling volumes from the shelves, peering at them, putting some back in and keeping others until he has a bit of a stack which he proffers to Quinn with a bow.

"I can't speak as to the factual accuracy of such, but here: Drake, by a fellow named.... Bron Staker, ha, Staker-- and here is something called World War V..."

Long hands Quinn several volumes. "I don't know which might be most interesting to you, miss...?"

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

[ location: library ]

[ location: library ]

[ location: library ]