taxonomites | [ first thread - location: sanctuary

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[ first thread - location: sanctuary - holo ]

For a brief moment, home had finally felt like home again. She and Briar had argued, loudly and with the reasoning of children, but in that small instant of irritation Sandry had seen their old sibling bond. She had stormed around Daja’s house, taking measurements and debating the best fabrics and colors for her foster brother and sisters. That afternoon, despite her somewhat childish behavior, Sandry had returned hom with a new spark of hope in her chest. Thy were going to be okay. They had to be okay.

What she hadn’t expected was to wake the next morning--or was it still the same night?--in seamless metal chamber with no sign of an exit. For several moments Sandry took in the room, blinking at the walls around her for any sign of magic. The heaviness at her wrist distracted fairly quickly, and she turned to inspect the bracelet on her wrist. It told her nothing, and without Daja’s knowledge of metal there was no telling how or why it had been placed on her. The obvious answer, at least at first, was that she had been taken for ransom, and that the wrist was some sort of magic inhibitor. But there was no magic within the bracelet, and Sandry could feel her own magic as plain and clean as was normal. “Either they’re very good, or very stupid,” she mused to herself. Of course she couldn’t do anything with metal, but there might be other options...

Brow furrowed, the noble finally rose from the ground and checked for the pouch around her neck. Whoever had taken her hadn’t been very smart at all. The pouch was still there, as were its contents. The room was bright for now, but if whatever source was causing the light went out, at least she still had her crystal. More importantly, she had the thread that represented the bond between her foster siblings and herself. The lumps that lately had been warm with Tris and Daja’s magics were cold, but Briar’s gave a faint pulse. She gave it a slight tug, but the connection was still firmly closed. Unless she absolutely could not find a way out it would stay that way. Briar didn’t want her there, and she wasn’t about to force it after their arguments the day before.

Sandry sighed and placed the pouch back under her nightclothes, then smoothed the material over before firmly setting her jaw and addressing the empty room. “I am Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, Clehame fa Landreg, and I demand an immediate explanation as to why I have been brought here.”

No response.

“I won’t sit quietly and wait, if that’s what you’re thinking, so you may as well just answer me now. The very least you can do is give me your terms. It will be much easier on you if you cooperate now.”

Nothing. Mildly frustrated now, Sandry pushed her magic out, seeking some sort of material she could get a grasp on. There were wires in the walls, but she pulled her magic back quickly with a sharp, “Oh!” when she felt the electricity running through them--she would need Tris’ help to even think about doing anything with those.

“Oh, cat dirt.”

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"M'votin' on stupid. Tumbleweed." There's a semi amused look on Party's face--which is to say his lips are pursed into a thin, almost smile. There's a large part of him that's already got his hackles raised, though.

"An' no mean to burst your bubble, cityrat, you're in a place where nobility flies about as high as a Drac at a wavehead bar." A large, heavy sigh.

"Just pick up the tablet thing my voice an' face is comin' by, door will open. Boom, you're in a city you've been kidnapped and placed inn. And what does cat dirt haveta do with it?"

The voice startles Sandry, despite the fact that she's been waiting for an answer, and she approaches the pedestal cautiously. There's no magic showing on the little device, but there is the young man speaking, plain as day.

Well, plain as Briar might have when he'd first arrived at Discipline.

"I can see I've been kidnapped," she replies, a little more curtly than she would have under normal circumstances. Her cheeks redden at his mention of her pathetic swearing, but she ignores the question and focuses instead on pulling herself back, loosening up. She's still on edge, and isn't sure what to make of the device or the man's picture on it, but there is a significant lack of authority in her voice when she speaks again.

"A city where?"

The redhead shrugs. "Welcome to the club. Well, not literally--inasmuch as more of a colony of captives, running around." A bit of an amused look crosses his face. "Like Australia. Where I can't tell you, Sunshine, but you're in a place called Taxon with a bracelet on your hand that all the other folks got," --he holds up his own--"and not a clue how to get out. Sorry 'bout that. Here's the deal, I guess."

He mutters something about being the welcome wagon, and lets out a huge sigh before continuing.

"You've been kidnapped and brought here by weird creatures that only show up when they want to. Us? We're your allies. Pulled from different worlds. A lot of us seem to be from Earth, or varying states of Earth. Buuuut you never know."

Much of what he says confuses Sandry more than she likes to admit. The places he names are places she's never heard of, and the way he phrases things is odd. She is able to get the gist of it, though: captives, all of them...however many 'all' is.

She eyes his bracelet carefully, then looks back to her own. It appears to be made of the same material, and looks just as foreign and uncomfortable on him as it feels on her. "Taxon...is a prison, then? For what purpose?"

There's a pause as she debates just how to approach the subject without appearing as though she has gone completely mad. Then, tentatively, she adds, "Is Australia a prison as well? I've never heard of one named such." She can only guess it's part of that Earth country.

Party's surprisingly okay with the latter half of this, and it's easier to say: "It's just a huge country that's full of like, decendants of villians. Cooler than it sounds, not important." Mainly because Party's always wanted to go but he's not even sure if Australia exists in his world anymore.

"You're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, though. Nice, motorbaby. Alright, here's the scoop: pick up the tablet thing, the one with my face on it? The door'll open. you'll be lead into the city. Don't bother with anyone that doesn't have a bracelet, they're fucking robots. And more importantly, remember:" Sure, his tone is ominous, but he's a dramatic guy. "Even if they do? Watch your back."

Sandry raises an eyebrow. A country of villains? "It sounds dreadful," she states plainly. "Especially if it's cold." How strange their punishment system must be, to send evildoers to the colder countries.

For as much as she thought she had been following him, some of what he says is completely lost on her. She isn't sure whether or not she should be offended at being called 'motorbaby', but there isn't much time to ponder before he's giving her instructions on how to get out.

Good.

Gingerly, Sandry picks up the tablet. It's lighter than she expected, but the sound of the door opening in the wall distracts her for the moment. An apologetic look crosses her face and she bites her lip. "Robots? I'm terribly sorry, I've just never heard many of the terms you're using. This is all distressingly new to me..."

"Don't worry about it. Not many people 'round here do. Only two Killjoys in Taxon right now." he says 'right now' because he is desperately, foolishly, selfishly hoping for Fun Ghoul or Jet Star or Grace to get snagged up.

"Anyway, tumbleweed. You don't worry about the lingo thing. There's another guy here that's just as confounded as you by all this tech, which is weird for a guy like me, but." Another shrug. "Let's go outside, huh? If you want I can be there in," he checks his watch. "10 minutes to show you the ropes of this place."

She can only assume that a Killjoy is his people, but at least he has someone else here. While the thread with Briar's magic is barely pulsing, she isn't about to get her hopes up that the other confused individual he mentioned is Briar.

Other things first, then she would track him down. Maybe. If he wanted her to.

"I would hate to ask it," she starts, but the fact that the room is confusing enough, followed by the idea of stepping out into a city that is just as strange and filled with 'tech' stops her. Having someone to show her around, even someone as odd as this young man, is better than floundering about in an unknown place. "But if you don't mind it, I would be very grateful if you could."

[ There's a sound of screeching tires. Party Poison was already in his car, and he switched the visual to just audio as he drives.]

I offered, sunshine. So, Lady Shangri-lee fa-two...whatsitcalled, welcome to this fucked up place. Name's Party Poison.

There's something wrong with the tablet, she thinks when his picture abruptly disappears. His voice can still be heard, though, and for a moment Sandry wonders if this is how Tris must feel when hearing things on the wind: utterly confused.

"Sandrilene fa Toren," she corrects, "but please call me Sandry. The title doesn't come into play unless it can't be helped." With a last glance around the chamber, Sandry frowns down at her nightgown--meeting someone in her nightclothes, especially a young man, is not something she had been expecting to do--and steps out into the long hallway. Just to make sure she heard him correctly, she repeats, "Party Poison?"

An old, beat-up spraypainted Trans-am rolls onto the road, nearly clipping the cur--no, it clips the curb, and Party sticks his head out. he's got aviators on, and after a few seconds he pulls them off of his head, tosses them into the back seat, and gets out of the car.

No mistaking the girl in her nightgown with a bracelet and a familiar lost expression.

"Look alive, sunshine!" He offers a half-wave, shivering against what's freezing for him. "Welcome to Taxon. Wish I wasn't the welcome wagon, but.." A shrug. "Gotta start somewhere." He extends a hand, half-smiling in that 'I can't quite remember how to laugh' way that's all too real for him and Kobra.

What Sandry hadn't realized while wandering around inside was how cold it would be when she finally stepped outside. She hovers just inside the doors, waiting until she sees the very peculiar horseless carriage pull up. Then, as bravely as she can, she tugs the thin material of her robe around herself and steps outside. Regret for not turning the throw pillows in the lobby into slippers immediately hits. If it weren't for the fact that she didn't know whose pillows they were, she would strongly consider going back inside for them.

"Alive as I can," she promises Party, wondering at how he can look as cold as she feels in so many layers. A moment of hesitation and she delicately takes his hand. "My brother has just informed me that he is also on his way. I apologize for the trouble you might have taken to come here, and will understand if you would rather leave than wait. It is much warmer inside..."

Very precise. Party's reminded of Mr. Library, because all the please and thank yous have since gone from California 2019.He mutters something along the lines of no problem and notices the poor girl's probably freezing her ass off.

So's Party, of course, acclimated to desert and radiation, but he doesn't like to show it and he instead is opening the trunk of the trans-am, pulling out a large blanket and offering it to her. "Here." And, because old habits die hard: "Free of charge, tumbleweed, you're in your damn nightgown."

He shuts the trunk, though, sitting on it, feet balanced precariously, and points, things clicking together.

"Your brother's totally Briar. You guys talk the same, all big words with no meanin'."

"Are you sure?" Of course he isn't, anyone could see that. For the moment, though, Sandry really isn't in a spot to protest the extra heat. "...thank you."

She can feel the fibers of the blanket reaching out for her, offering warmth and comfort, before she even touches it. This material doesn't know her like the cloth at home does, and it takes several scoldings before the threads settle and behave.

It's no surprise that he's put her and Briar together, really, not with the way they all seem to speak here. Funny, how it doesn't even require an explanation in a foreign place when people at home constantly questioned them. "He's my foster brother, yes," Sandry confirms, tucking her chin into the blanket and wondering whether she should be offended by the second piece of that statement or not. Not, she decides. Blanket says not.

"M'not usin' 'em, Sunshine." Party attemps a comforting smile that comes across a little oddly, his face not really used to that. "Y'ever need anything, look for this." he jerks his thumb towards his trans am, spraypainted and broken down and generally looking like it's on it's last legs.

"I'll be there. Or Kobra Kid. He's my brother: same eyes as me, blonde hair, pinched jaw, never really talks that much? Look for these," he turns around, showing his Party Poison logo, and then points out Kobra's symbol on the car, "on the walls of Taxon's buildings."

Briar rounds the corner and is mildly relieved to see Sandry wrapped in a blanket. Apparently Party is taking care of his sister. It's too cold here for anyone to be out in their nightclothes, as the cloud formed by his breath reminds him. Of course, Sandry could probably have managed something with any textiles she found in the area, but the thought still counts for plenty.

His initial relief at a familiar face and voice has subsided somewhat, and Briar is back to the same place he was before arriving in Taxon. Not quite sure how to fit all the messy edges between them back together, he slows his pace a few steps away from his sister before closing the distance between them. He won't protest if Sandry hugs him, but he greets her with a smile and a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's good to see you, Sandry," and he means it, in spite of nothing being how it once was.

He turns to the other man, nodding, smile still firmly on his face. "Hello, Party." That red is even brighter in person, and Briar idly runs through a list of dyes in his head, wondering which combination produces a color that bright.

Sandry and Briar, unlike Kobra and Party, couldn't look much less like siblings. They have different hair, skin tone, eye color, and facial structure. If Party can identify them as such, he's very good at looking past appearance and into the way things are. In Briar's experience, a lot of people lack that skill.

Sandry can tell enough about the look of the vehicle to say that it looks as though it could crumble at any second. The threading inside alone is whining loudly enough for that. She itches to repair, but knows that it would probably be an unwise move on her part so soon after meeting Party. He doesn't seem like someone who would enjoy the new girl playing with his toys.

"Do you place your mark many places?" she asks, leaning closer to look at the logo. It's certainly very...distinct.

Sandry is about to ask more about Kobra Kid when she feels the familiar pull of Briar's magic approaching. At first, she isn't sure how to react. They hadn't parted on the best of terms the night before, and there's no telling how Briar will react to her now that they're face to face.

His hand on her shoulder is enough. Sandry, doing her very best not to pout, closes the final foot or two and hugs Briar tight.

"I'm so glad you're here."

He's sitting on his truck, waiting for them to hug it out. A hand goes to his nose and he touches it, gingerly, feeling a pang of jealousy. The siblings reunite and they get a hug and nice rapport, Party and Kobra unite and Kobra breaks Party's nose.

When he gets uncomfortable he clears his throat and answers the girl's query:

"Places I've checked before, places that are safe. Places I'm workin' on making milkshake, slaughtermatic and reachin' up to heaven with a sword and a shield," he states softly.

"But you've got someone you know. S'half the battle, junkpunks."

Kobra looks at the tablet, wrinkles his nose. "I'm Kobra Kid and I demand my bike to be brought to me," he looks around, shrugs. "See, not working here. Better quit that yelling and name throwing."

He catches Sandry off guard, and she gapes at the tablet for several seconds before pulling herself back together. The stubborn chin remains for now, and she looks at the young man with a mix of hurt pride and fear.

"What do you propose I do, then?"

"Dunno, tumbleweed," Kobra shrugs. "We've all been trying to find out," he offers by means of consolation, then thinks. "Do you know anyone here?"

Sandry glances down at the bracelet on her wrist, and her shoulders relax. Wherever she is, there are others with the same problem, and throwing some sort of noble temper tantrum probably won't do her any good.

She pauses, thinking about the faint pulse that is Briar's magic. Barely noticeable, she shakes her head. "I. I'm afraid I don't know."

"Maybe you'll find someone," Kobra points out with a tiny smile. "Just try and relax."

Somehow, she's able to give him a brief, somewhat trembling smile. When there is no one to be uppity at, Sandry's use of her noble status falls fairly quickly. "I can only hope so." Or perhaps not, judging by the look of the place.

Usually Kobra didn't care much, but Sandry seemed a lot more scared than many of the newcomers, so he gave her a tiny smile in return. "It'll be okay, you'll see. No danger lurking outside, so you can explore the city for a little bit."

The look she gives him in response is somewhat doubtful. There is no city that does not contain some danger. It's a fact that she has learned very well, even while growing up in Winding Circle.

"None?" He has to be trying to fool her.

The name at first goes unnoticed. All Willow could take note of was the girl's appearance. No, it couldn't be? Was she back when Buffy wasn't?

"Dawnie?"

It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. But then the name registered and Willow frowned, disappointment clear on her face.

"Sorry. I... thought you were someone else..."

At home, Sandry had rarely been mistaken for anyone else, unless one was to count all of the times someone had compared her to her mother. 'Dawnie' is definitely one she hasn't heard before, though. She takes a moment to marvel at the tablet's ability to switch between people so easily before giving the woman an apologetic smile.

"It's quite alright. Our eyes and tongues are sometimes quicker to judge than our minds can keep up with."

"It's just... she's kinda like a little sister to me," Willow explained, looking uneasy at having been called out like that. "I-I thought..." Well, not important anymore, right?

"My name's Willow. Uh, it's really nice to meet you, but I don't think I can pronounce your name yet."

"I'm terribly sorry." Sandry could completely relate to that look, subject matter or not. She moved a little closer to the device and attempts a larger smile.

"Sandrilene," she repeats, a little more slowly, "but I normally go by Sandry. It's much easier to remember, and to say."

"It's nice to meet you, Sandry," Willow answered, trying to smile to reassure the other girl. "A-and I know it's a little weird just arriving and all that, but... I've been here for a while, so if you need anything, you can ask me, okay? I'm a... a good witch. Not a bad one."

"It's lovely to meet you as well." Well, mostly. Given the situation, Sandry was quite sure meeting Willow anywhere else would have been much nicer.

Willow's naming herself a witch gave her more credit already than many of the others Sandry had encountered, and the girl perked up significantly upon hearing it. "A witch? What sort? I'm a thread mage myself..."

Willow definitely understood that one. It was something she'd had to contend with for over a year now.

The witch deal made her frown, though. She wasn't sure she understood the question. She knew there was all types of magic, especially from world-to-world but she'd never heard of a thread mage before. "Uh, I think magic works differently in my world," she answered. "I'm just... a witch. I can perform a lot of different spells, make things float, create barriers, all kinds of things. What does... being a thread mage mean?" At least she was honestly curious. She loved learning about different worlds, especially those with magic.

She won't hear much but a reassuringly familiar chuckle at first. "I suppose now I don't need to worry about you leaving for Namorn without me, Sandry." By which he obviously means 'I'm glad to see you,' for those that speak sibling.

Briar is sitting cross-legged on the floor, attempt to meditate broken by a very welcome distraction. "Someone's already told you how to get out of the room, right? If you'll wait there, I can come find you."

The familiar laugh is all Sandry really needs. She grasps the tablet close as a wave of relief rushes over her. Briar is here. She isn't alone.

Of course, that also leads to the fact that Briar is here, and she can't help but huff at him. "What do you mean, leaving without you? We couldn't possibly." She gives him a look full of You Silly Boy, but nods nonetheless at his question. "Yes, a young man told me how. He said he would meet me as well..."

Her initial reaction and the irritated response that followed it only made Briar grin more. He didn't even make an effort to duck his head and hide the smile. "Well, without any way of knowing when I'll get back home," he explained, "a fellow can't be sure of these things."

His own feelings ran a similar course to hers. On the one hand, Sandry was the sibling who he fully expected to pester him about opening up and sharing his feelings, but on the other, it was really nice to have family here. "Who?" he asked, wondering if it was one of the few he'd met so far. "I'll come meet you both."

Sandry wrinkles her nose at his smile--it's hardly the time for grinning if even Briar can't find a way out of something. "There isn't a way out? You're sure?" What about Namorn, and Daja and Tris? What about her uncle? Sandry pales significantly, only snapping back when Briar asks about her other greeter.

"He said his name is Party Poison," she answers absently. "He's only supposed to be a few minutes..."

Briar is well aware it isn't a time for grinning, but the combination of a familiar face and reactions that make him feel like maybe they aren't such strangers after all is a relief. Sandry is still Sandry, even if they had all seemed far too different at first after years apart. "He'll be alright," Briar reassures her, with conviction that he can only wish for. Briar really likes Sandry's uncle. "So will everyone else." Tris and Daja, Lark and Rosethorn, Pasco and Evvy.

Nodding, Briar replies, "I've talked to him before," adding, "I'm on my way." He is already on his feet and moving as he speaks. He'd wanted to meet Party anyway, so the other man's presence is hardly a deterrent.

That Briar can still read her so easily, even after the amount of time they spent apart, is both helpful and irritating. Right now, with her heart in her stomach, Sandry files it away as his trying to help, and she nods slowly to him. "I know..." But she has to get back soon. Has to.

She looks a little more comfortable when Briar says that he's met the man, and suddenly the idea of meeting this Party Poison in her nightclothes doesn't seem quite as threatening. "I'll be here somewhere." If she can ever figure out where the end of this hallway is.

"A bit of both," DG answered with a sympathetic smile, recognising the confused and anger and fear of a new arrival and knowing that nothing she said would make the situation any better. "They're clever enough to trap us here, but they're stupid enough to think that we should be grateful to them for some of the things they've done."

The expression of distaste that crossed DG's face made her own opinions on the matter abundantly clear.

"I'm DG," she added, "Welcome to Taxon."

"How unfortunate," Sandry mused back, observing the woman closely. "What sorts of things have they done?" The way the woman says it, it sounds like their captors are doing more than holding them hostage. The look of disgust on her face didn't help that idea much.

"Sandry. And, while I'm not sure it is a welcome I really want, thank you."

"For what it's worth, I wish I didn't have to give it," said DG with an apologetic half smile. She'd made plenty of friends in the city, and she'd welcomed more than one of them like this, but the circumstances were far from ideal.

"Sometimes ... it's difficult to explain, but sometimes things go wrong with the city. People act strangely until they manage to fix it."

"It's worth enough." At least there were kind faces in such a strange place, even if they did appear out of a piece of metal. Oh, what Sandry would have given for Daja to be present. She would probably love the intricacy of the little device.

DG's explanation didn't bode very well for what might be awaiting Sandry outside the little room, and the noble paused to assess what the other woman had said. "Is it a sickness?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Based on what she'd seen and what the hamsters had told them on the rare occasions that they decided to make an appearance, it was more of a technical malfunction. But an illness was a good analogy, particularly for someone who came from a world without that sort of technology.

"There's no cure. We just have to wait it out."

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[ first thread - location: sanctuary - holo ]

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