taxonomites | System Glitch: In The City

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System Glitch: In The City

The artificial sun rises in the artificial sky... just like every day in Taxon. For some of the inhabitants, this has been going on long enough to be very routine.

This morning, though, the light shines over quite a few gaps in the city's architecture. There is no Oxford library, no Hedge Maze. A number of the private residences are simply gone, those that people brought with them to Taxon. And the streets are very empty, indeed: no Extras on the sidewalks, no Extras driving cars. No smiling faces in the corner coffee shop. The trams rattle around the city with nary a soul on board. The streets are silent.

But it's not just the Extras who are gone. Most of the familiar faces are, too. The tablets show only a very short list of 'Contacts'-- those few citizens left in the city proper.

Save for a small handful of Taxon's prisoners-- left rattling around like the last pills in a nearly empty bottle-- the city is deserted, and silent as the grave.

[ OOC: The first of two log posts to kick off the event! For reference, these are the characters who are remaining in the city: Azkadellia, Briar Moss, Charles Xavier (AU), Daphne Powell, DG, Drusilla, Eanes, Illyria, James Holmes, Jenna Sommers, Martha Jones, Remus Lupin, and Wyatt Cain. ]

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"Because I'm a danger, Azkadellia. To every single person I interact with. And it's irresponsible for me to expose others to that danger."

The butterfly twitched and flew up, coming back to land on her hand.

"You're one of only two things keeping me from curling up into a ball and not getting up," she noted softly. "I feel weak and useless and utterly pathetic, but you're part of what keeps me going and praying it works itself out. Does that make you a danger or a help?"

"I'm sick, Azkadellia. Very sick. And my sickness is contagious. If I were to shift, I would try to bite and infect and kill every person I could find and I can't stop that shifting. I can't control it. If they want me to shift, I will. All I can do is minimise the danger I am. That's why I stayed away. I don't want to infect anyone."

"If they want you loose where you can hurt them, then they will. Least that is what everyone tells me," she said softly, thinking about the witch. "Besides, between us? Trust me that I may be weak emotionally but I'm capable of killing."

"I know. But... If I've stayed away, then I know I've done everything in my power to stop it. I know I did what I could to protect them. If I don't, if I go mingling and it happens, then I'll always wonder... would they have done it if I had just stayed safely tucked away? I can't invite that sort of trouble by complacency."

He smiled weakly. "I don't think you're weak. Just young."

She turned, facing him fully. “Any that know you would never blame you of causing anything that happened. I barely know you and I know I wouldn’t do that. I can’t imagine those that you would call friend.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Younger than I should be, and weaker than I could be. Too afraid not to be.”

"But I would blame me," he replied, voice soft and gaze downcast. "And I would always wonder what more I could have and should have done."

He glanced to her. "I knew someone once, you remind me of him. Proud and intelligent, but young in some ways that time may not heal. Difference is, I'll never punch you in the face." He nodded sagely.

She went silent, looking away. "If I told you I felt the same and always would every time I saw that zipper on Glitch's head, what would you say to me," she asked softly, glancing towards him. "But I will forever blame myself even if I can reverse it. Even if he never comes back," she whispered, choking on the words.

Despite herself, Azkadellia smiled. "Please, feel free. I will hit back," she said, inclining her head towards him. "I may never mature though," she agreed. "I know that. I know that all those years never being allowed to grow may stunt me forever emotionally and mentally. What else I know? I will never give up on a friend who is hurting like I think you are. Even if it means standing on your doorstep and passing messages under the door."

They both came from a world that didn't involve such things as the tablets and while she was good at using it, she liked the ways of her world as well.

"I have no desire to hit you, Azkadellia. If I see him again, I will do everything I can to help him, but I will be punching him in the face first. He destroyed my life, such as it was.

"Not forever. Nothing is forever. I think you just need a chance to be the child you weren't allowed to be." He patted her hand again. "My door's enchanted to stop things slipping through. I had an incident with Cornish pixies once that I never want to repeat."

"Was he a friend," she asked softly. "Or just an influence?" She was so curious about things, and so nervous about asking, but he had opened the door as it were.

"Before the witch, I was barely allowed that. I was a princess. The eldest. Besides, I wasn't like other children. I liked books and studying and learning new things," she admitted.

"What's a Cornish pixie?"

"He wasn't a friend. We grew up together, in fact, we're the only members of our year left alive and sane. For a value of sane. My friends bullied him horribly, and I never stopped them. But, he was a thoroughly obnoxious child who grew into a thoroughly obnoxious man who revels in being feared." He gave her a tired smile. "He's not easy to like, but I thought he respected our employer enough to not do what he did. Still, I got off light. Most people who take the Defence teaching post end up dead."

He lifted a dragonfly gently off his wand, letting it walk over his hand. "In my school, we had a whole house dedicated to student who loved to learn and read above all else. I nearly ended up there myself. And a Cornish pixie is a small fairy that loves mayhem, trouble and pranks. Bit like my old friends."

Azkadellia listened attentively though she paled, a lot. "I... Do you find me obnoxious? Am I," she asked, worried and concerned for that. "I don't mean to be. Would you tell me how," she asked, looking like she'd bit a lemon. "I don't want to be feared either. I've lived enough of that even if not me."

"I think something like that, that learning, would be fantastic," she said with a sigh. "I don't like mayhem and pranks though. Are they part of the house?"

"No, you're not obnoxious. He was, but that was nothing to do with the ways in which you're similar. Your similarities are much more innocent than his malice. So put that fear from you. I would tell you, but you're not."

It was a blessing and a curse. The school system had a lot of flaws. "No, those were just my friends. The pixies are just part of the world, like flowers and birds and people. They just are."

She looked at him, a bit uncertain and judging if he would or not. She knew that some held their tongue to protect others. "Well, I'm holding you to that. If I'm being that way, tell me. I can't learn if you don't tell me."

She frowned. "Were they your friends' fault?"

"Of course you can't. Just promise that you'll never think my statements for malice or cruelty."

He let the dragonfly go, dropping the minor enchantment enthralling the insects there. "No. It was after school. I was in Cornwall, so they were to be expected."

"Malice and cruelty? From you," she asked, scoffing at the very idea. "Maybe I don't know you well, but I can't imagine that from you."

She watched it fly away, smiling as she looked to him, seeing him as enchanted. "Do you use a lot of magic where you're from?"

"Well, I suppose it might be a lot. We're very casual about magic use. It's how I get around here as well."

"So few can do it where I'm from that it is a big thing, even the smaller things," she said in a soft voice.

"In my world, there's a lot of muggles, but their world and ours... they don't know about us. Some of us move in their world, but we stay away from them. There were terribly times in the past, so we let ourselves be forgotten by them.

"But our world is all magic. Maybe too much so."

"Why would you think it was too much," she asked, brow furrowing in confusion at that comment. "If you're staying to yourselves, how is it too much?"

"We don't innovate. We leave all technological development to the muggles and we shun a lot of what they create, however valid or amazing it is. We have magical innovation, yes, but I think we need to open ourselves much more. We're mired in tradition and outdate notions of 'pure breeding'."

Her nose wrinkled at that. "Why would they be worried about that? It seems troublesome and only meant to ... I guess I'm seeing your point about what is wrong with your world."

"I don't know. Because they're ignorant." He shrugged slightly.

She chuckled, though it was a sad sound. "So I imagine. Think of a world that combined them," she said softly. "I admit, most of my world doesn't either."

"One of my friends, Sirius, he loved muggle technology. He had a motorbike that he enchanted to fly."

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