[accidental visual | location: twelfth floor] trust our deepest secrets to the artificial lake

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

The sun's scrambled high into the sky like a sure-footed kid climbing a tree—it's the itch under his collar and the sweat on his palms. He raises the hoe and swings it down into dry earth, sending up a puff of dust. There's always one weed left. Sun's baleful glare on his back, he drives the blade in again. He hears himself grunt (it sounds more like a squeal, like he's gonna cry) as if from far away.

He must close his eyes because the next thing he knows his hands are empty—slick with sweat and streaked with dirt but empty. He wipes them on his pants and looks up.

His eyes go wide. His arms prickle with goosebumps; he hugs himself against the sudden cold. He takes a step back, then another—it's a white room with a bed and the covers are rumpled. Maybe he should see if they're warm but he takes another step back and stumbles over a bottle. A gasp snags on something before it can escape his throat. He freezes, goes rigid. Listens with all his might.

The tablet switches on to show a dark-haired boy in clothes—a grimy shirt, suspenders, brown pants—that are worn but not ratty stooping to carefully right a whisky bottle.

Comments

[ visual ]

[gotcouplings.livejournal.com]

Kaylee is all but actually swearing at this point. Teenagers and adults are one thing, but bringing children to Taxon? What the di yu are those hamsters thinking up there? Granted, it's not the normal set-up in the Sanctuary, and it crosses her mind that it could be a glitch, but she doesn't recognize the name.

"Ai ya," she mumbles to herself, before she pulls the tablet closer, puts on her nicest smile, and switches her end of the feed on. "Hey, y'alright?"

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

His nervous fingers almost topple the bottle again when the floor starts talking. Dick sucks in a sharp breath; mouth hanging open he stares at the tile under his shoes. His gaze creeps timidly over the floor and comes to rest on...some kind of thing. Something smooth and bright and new.

Throwing an anxious look at the door, he stretches out on his belly, head propped up under a fist, to peer at what turns out to be a woman's smiling face.

[ visual ]

[gotcouplings.livejournal.com]

Kaylee watches him carefully, smile never wavering. He isn't the first to not understand the technology. Hell, she doesn't understand some of it herself half the time, but she's almost positive that's partially because the hamsters haven't figured out what they're trying to do.

"S'alright, ain't gonna hurt ya. Name's Kaylee--mind if I ask yours?"

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

Dick looks on in fascination, frowning the perplexed, impatient frown of someone captivated by a magic trick and dying to find out how it works, help himself to the magician's secret knowledge. He watches her lips form the words while she speaks. He watches her hair—he can see it ripple as she moves her head.

Too late he remembers the question. "Dick Whitman. I didn't touch nothing," he protests without pausing for breath. "It--"

visual

[taintedrose]

The hamsters are especially cruel if they are now bringing young children to here. This was no place for a child. Rose is concerned by this sight so she switches on her table to speak to him, checking to see if he was okay.

"Hello there. You okay?"

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

"Yes, ma'am," Dick says softly. He holds the tablet at arm's length and meets her eyes only briefly.

"I'm gonna make the bed," he adds, unable to think of another reason she'd be asking.

[visual]

[taintedrose]

"Good." She smiles at him softly, trying to offer him some reassurance. Rose doesn't want to scare him.

"That's okay," Rose comments, still smiling. "Do you know where you are?"

[ visual ]

[bonescientist.livejournal.com]

Oh, dear. Brennan's not particularly practiced with children, but ignoring this seems like a callous, cruel thing to do.

She hems and haws for a good while as to what to say, before managing awkwardly, "Hello? Little boy?"

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

By now Dick's mastered the basics of tablet operation: keep it steady and point it at your face (and remember people can see and hear you). Still, he startles at the new voice.

"Hello," he ventures, at once solemn and uncertain.

[visual]

[bonescientist.livejournal.com]

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Brennan smiles, hoping to appear reassuring. Now what? She's hitting a dead end already and desperately wishes someone from home were here to help her along - Angela, or maybe Booth who has a child of his own. He was the people person, not Brennan. Finally, she goes with what she knows the best; facts.

"I know you must be confused or frightened, but it's alright." Which might have been a lie, really. The boy should be at home with his family, not in Taxon. "What's your name? My name is Temperance, but if you want, you can call me Tempe for short."

[visual] because I know you so wanted Long of my two chars

[imperial-long.livejournal.com]

Oh dear. There is a child in Taxon. It hardly seems fair. Long tsks to himself before opening a reply; his habit is to stick to voice, but he supposes visual might be reassuring. Or perhaps not.

"Hello, young man. You appear to be new here. Has anyone else explained anything to you yet?"

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

A face the likes of which Dick's never seen confronts him: black skin, slanty eyes. His mouth falls open and the meager assortment of facts he's collected scatter like dandelion seeds carried away on a puff of breath.

The voice doesn't--can't--belong to the face. It's rich and English.

He pulls back from the tablet and, still gawking, wills himself to nod.

[visual]

[imperial-long.livejournal.com]

The child half recoils from him-- or perhaps the tablet, Long supposes; that's the thought that is less injurious to Long's ego. But he takes in the boy's clothes, makes a guess as to era which is probably not entirely wrong.

Very unfair. The child will be surrounded by things unknowable and bizarre, like Miss Ross. (Long mentally ignores the fact that many things were unknowable and bizarre to him at first too.)

The child also has the air of a student awaiting a chiding from a master, which Long has some experience with.

"You're not in trouble," he says with a bare hint of a smile. "Not yet, at any rate. I am Mr. Long; I'm not going to hurt you, lad. Are you hungry?"

In Long's admittedly limited experience, all children respond to food.

[ visual ]

[stepintoshadows.livejournal.com]

Rorschach blinks once, then twice, then openly stares, forgetting to switch the transmission in his surprise at seeing the child. It seems out of place, the grime and grit as much of a reason in the stark room as the age, and lips twitch into a tense frown, brow furrowing to match his puzzlement. There have been no other children that he has seen so far, so it's understandably unexpected. It doesn't sit well with him, the boy left on his own, nor does the timid demeanor he has adopted in the clearly new environment. It hearkens to things he would prefer not to think about, has in fact put quite a bit of effort into not thinking about.

But even so. He dislikes it. Something should be done to rectify it, someone should be held accountable.

But he finds he doesn't have the words. He's never been much for conversation, and when he tries to put voice to thoughts they fail before they even get to his mouth. He doesn't know where to start. So instead he only watches, though with much less of his usual hostility.

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

Dick sits wedged in one of the room's far corners, knees drawn almost to his chest. He has the tablet in his hands--every so often his head snaps up his eyes dart to the door.

He's tired. His shoulders are stiff and his shoes pinch his feet. He found cigarettes and a wristwatch he didn't dare touch next to the bed. He stood at the window feeling by turns dizzy and scared and powerful.

He stares back. It's not a show of boldness--he's used to observing, to his gaze having no more force than a breath of wind.

[visual]

[stepintoshadows.livejournal.com]

Hundreds of thoughts flicker through his mind as he scrambles for forgotten protocol for these kinds of situations, each one seized on but abandoned quickly until he finds one that's the least objectionable, voice hollow and hoarse when he finally forces the words out. He's long out of practice in actually helping people.

"You have a name?" It's the first thing to come to mind; assuring the boy that he's safe, which would be the first on the checklist, would be something of a lie considering the things he's seen since his arrival. And Rorschach has never seen the use in a lie, no matter how small or well-intentioned.

[Visual]

[tothelightshown.livejournal.com]

Although DG's experience of being a child in Taxon had been mercifully brief, she knew all too well how frightening and confusing it could be. At this stage, there was no way of knowing if the figure on the screen was a glitched adult or a new arrival. Either way, he was lost and he needed help.

"Hey," she said, giving him a soft smile, "Are you ok? I'm DG. You're in a city called Taxon."

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

"I'm fine, miss," Dick says, feeling trapped not only by the room but by the blandly polite selection of answers he can't help but offer in response to these questions. Yes, ma'am. My name's Dick Whitman. I'm fine, ma'am.

He sniffs--he's gone from baking in the sun to the room's unnatural chill--and wipes at his nose. "Nice to meet you."

[Visual]

[tothelightshown.livejournal.com]

"Really?" DG raised an eyebrow. She wasn't mocking him, she simply wanted to show that she understood. "Because I wasn't fine when I woke up in a city I didn't recognise. I was pretty scared."

Dick Whitman. It wasn't a name she recognised. Maybe he was a new arrival. Glitching people into children temporarily was cruel, but kidnapping a child? That crossed yet another line.

[ visual ]

[flochart.livejournal.com]

Sometime after the citizens of Taxon have been let out of the Sanctuary, the newest addition to the alien presence in Taxon (or lack thereof, one should say) stumbles upon the image of a miniature Don Draper on the tablet network.

"Oh, you are just precious."

[visual]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

Were Dick not in the habit of resting the tablet on whatever surface happens to be handy--tables, the ground, his knees--it would be slipping from his hands and tumbling to the floor. As it is, his head jerks back from the screen.

"Hello," he says, the greeting a little mournful and more than a little questioning.

[visual]

[flochart.livejournal.com]

"Hey, sweetheart." In contrast to the other aliens who pay visits to Taxon, in person and not, Flo's rather friendly and upbeat with a genuine interest in the lives of the people inhabiting this city. "You doing okay?"

[location] laaaaater

[verylittlesugar]

Being stuck inside the Sanctuary isn't the worst thing in the world, but it feels confining to Mattie, and she hates that feeling. Which means she walks a lot, up and down the hallways of the various floors, in and out of public rooms, watching what's going on and trying to feel less like a caged animal.

She's surprised during one of these wanderings to see a small child, the only one she's ever seen in Taxon. Immediately he reminds her of little Frank, and she tries not to frown too much as she speaks to him.

"What is your name?"

[location: fifteenth floor THANK CB]

[honoraryhobo.livejournal.com]

Dick has dropped to his knees and rummages through a cabinet buffed, like the rest of the room's fixtures, to a high metallic sheen. Mattie's question is lost in the clanging and scraping and occasional rattle of kitchen implements, but he catches the inquisitorial note in her voice and hurriedly yanks his head from the cabinet.

The wild look of alarm in his eyes settles into habitual wariness when he realizes he's facing a girl not much older than himself.

"'scuse me," he says, quiet and somber. Carefully, as if it's a weapon or something of inestimable value, he lowers the strainer in his left hand to the floor.

[location: fifteenth floor]

[verylittlesugar]

Little Frank never had that scared animal look, more like just a wild animal getting into mischief, so instead of the sarcastic remark she'd have reserved for her brother Mattie kneels down so she's more on his level.

"There is no need to ask my pardon, it is not my kitchen. Though I do think the people it does belong to expect to see it used, else they would not have left it here for us. Are you looking for something?"