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 pencil continues to scratch against the paper for a moment or so longer before he reaches the end of his thoughts and stores both away in a pocket; he's finished enough with his assessment for now, and there's really no point in ignoring him. It's better to work in groups in this kind of thing anyway, easier to collect information and find the answers, and Daniel he knows. Rorschach regains his feet in a fluid motion before regarding him critically for a moment or so, then makes a sound that's the verbal equivalent of a shrug, the initial wave of discomfort at being without it mostly worn off by now.

"It didn't come with me." There's a thoughtful pause, as if he's considering exactly how much to say, then "Don't always wear it." Which is probably obvious by now anyway.

It's a lot to take in - this sudden change of appearance in his former partner and yet it's all remarkably familiar. Dan never needed to see Rorschach's eyes to know when he was being judged and how often it occurred. Yet if he had to have imagined a facial expression it probably would have been something like this.

Of all people, Dan can understand the need for secrecy, but he doesn't understand why such secrecy was taken around him and especially in such a city where everyone was bound to run into everyone else. "Does anyone else here know that you're... you?"

That sounded much less eloquent than he intended.

It doesn't matter; Rorschach catches his meaning anyway, and while there's a minute twitch of eyebrow, as if to comment on the roundabout phrasing, he opts not to actually say anything about it. He knows full well words aren't always Daniel's forte when he's out of his element, and no amount of lecturing on the importance of precision is likely to change that.

"Don't think so. Shouldn't recognize me without face." Because clearly the purple pinstriped pants aren't an immediate giveaway, not to mention he's the only one who looks drastically different. Later there will be the former Fed to consider, but for now he's confident that Daniel is the only one who has managed to put it together. "Don't look closely enough." And it might be an accusation, but it might just as easily be observation; the face underneath is even more inscrutable than the one he usually shows the world.

Dan almost prefaces his words with "not to make you more paranoid, but - "

He has more sense than that. Instead he changes course a bit and goes directly for what's on his mind. "I think people will figure it out pretty fast once they see you. The city is small, you're bound to run into the same people eventually."

Rorschach is good at hiding, but the lack of the mask makes it that much more difficult. And exposed. "It might be something to think about."

The snort is brief and dismissive and unmistakeably 'Rorschach'.

"They're too busy pouring blood down the drains. Seeking answers from each other even when no-one has any. Finding solace in meaningless actions and ignoring the truths in front of their faces. They won't make the connection. Too busy with their own lives to notice. Will only make assumptions to confirm the status quo." He is absolutely certain of this, regardless of what Daniel says. It's how it has always been, he can't see how this small change could make it otherwise.

It took you twenty years to figure it out, he thinks but doesn't say, but the pointed look he shoots him does well enough at conveying the gist.

"...Appreciate your concern though." It seems to have been tacked on the end just to pacify, but it's sincere enough, in his own way.

Dan would have caught the meaning behind the words even without that look. He feels slightly guilty, but then he remembers that Rorschach wanted to stay hidden. You couldn't have it both ways.

There is always more to ask, but Rorschach's judging look grows increasingly uncomfortable with every passing moment. Time for a change of subject. "It looks like you've been seeking answers of your own," he says, pointing to the notes. "Have you found anything?"

Rorschach's always been a study of contradictions, a bundle of hypocritical standards impossible for anyone else to meet with any kind of consistency. Some days he seems to recognize this himself and adjust accordingly, but today is evidently not one of those days; he's too frustrated with circumstance to have the patience for it.

Either way, he seems to relax (as much as he can relax, anyway) with the change in topic. This is more familiar ground.

"Spoke with one of our captors. Briefly. Didn't get much; preferred dismissing situation and escaped before I could get any answers. Circumstances seem to be similar to original arrival; no warning, no indications of method. Possibly drugged, but..." He shakes his head ruefully. "No symptoms other than selective amnesia. Strange drug. You?"

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

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]

[location: 16th floor - greenhouse]