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taxonomites2013-07-18 01:52 pm
bloodandrhetoric) wrote in taxonomites2013-07-18 01:52 pm
Entry tags:
[holo] [arrival] another ark for another time
Reality has boundaries. There are things that separate one existence from another, things that unify or distinguish them. Constants and variables.
It's the sort of thing even the young girl, their little specimen, had been able to see. Even for Rosalind and Robert, denizens of the interstice between all those realities, constants and variables are the sorts of things one relies upon. They're guideposts by which one finds one's way. The girl had known it as well as anyone. There's always a lighthouse, she'd said. There's always a man. There's always a city.
The interstice was a constant as well. Rosalind had been fine with it, as a place to stay; it made for a nice control on their continuing experiments through realities, an unchanging and endless anchor point to which they could always return. It was Robert who'd insisted on finishing their old business, Robert who'd rocked the boat. Neither of them had known what the outcome might be if — when — they succeeded. When Dewitt unwrote himself.
Whatever this place is, it's unspecific enough to answer that particular conjecture: a big, metal room with an open door. "Ah," Rosalind says to herself, checking with feigned interest to see that her clothes are still in order and nothing's caught fire or any such inconvenience. "It would appear I'm no more or less dead than I was before. Well, that's something."
The disruption doesn't concern her, nor does the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. In fact, the woman who appears in miniature on the holo projections of Taxon's other residents’ tablets at this moment doesn't appear any more alarmed by the circumstances she finds herself in than she does about the slow, stark trickle of blood running from her nose. The latter she addresses with no more than a fascinated touch of her fingers to the injury and a thoughtful, "Hmm. I suppose that might logically follow."
She belatedly notices the bracelet framing her wrist with more obviously marked interest. Unlike the hemorrhaging, the bracelet is new. In moments she's investigating it, navigating her way through the tablet's initial screens till she arrives at the little introductory readme file; she spares a few minutes to glance it over. Then, that done, she closes the file with a smart nod and begins a broader explanation of the room.
There's not much of interest to beg her attention, but nonetheless, something brings a frown to her face. "Robert?" she calls out curiously. "Robert?"
After just two attempts, she puts the effort to one side, gathering herself up to quit the room. She really doesn't appear to be a woman who wastes much time on graceful segues once she's changed mental tracks, and apparently she’s done with the previous one.
This room has no more secrets to offer, she’s concluded, so there's no point in staying. A new reality means new work to be done. Best to have a look around.
==========
[[OOC: Rosalind will wander around the Sanctuary for a little while, please feel free to get in touch with her either while she's still dripping blood around the Sanctuary or else you can easily run afoul of her wandering around the city pretty much wherever.
PS Mods, can I get a character tag please and thank you <3]]
It's the sort of thing even the young girl, their little specimen, had been able to see. Even for Rosalind and Robert, denizens of the interstice between all those realities, constants and variables are the sorts of things one relies upon. They're guideposts by which one finds one's way. The girl had known it as well as anyone. There's always a lighthouse, she'd said. There's always a man. There's always a city.
The interstice was a constant as well. Rosalind had been fine with it, as a place to stay; it made for a nice control on their continuing experiments through realities, an unchanging and endless anchor point to which they could always return. It was Robert who'd insisted on finishing their old business, Robert who'd rocked the boat. Neither of them had known what the outcome might be if — when — they succeeded. When Dewitt unwrote himself.
Whatever this place is, it's unspecific enough to answer that particular conjecture: a big, metal room with an open door. "Ah," Rosalind says to herself, checking with feigned interest to see that her clothes are still in order and nothing's caught fire or any such inconvenience. "It would appear I'm no more or less dead than I was before. Well, that's something."
The disruption doesn't concern her, nor does the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. In fact, the woman who appears in miniature on the holo projections of Taxon's other residents’ tablets at this moment doesn't appear any more alarmed by the circumstances she finds herself in than she does about the slow, stark trickle of blood running from her nose. The latter she addresses with no more than a fascinated touch of her fingers to the injury and a thoughtful, "Hmm. I suppose that might logically follow."
She belatedly notices the bracelet framing her wrist with more obviously marked interest. Unlike the hemorrhaging, the bracelet is new. In moments she's investigating it, navigating her way through the tablet's initial screens till she arrives at the little introductory readme file; she spares a few minutes to glance it over. Then, that done, she closes the file with a smart nod and begins a broader explanation of the room.
There's not much of interest to beg her attention, but nonetheless, something brings a frown to her face. "Robert?" she calls out curiously. "Robert?"
After just two attempts, she puts the effort to one side, gathering herself up to quit the room. She really doesn't appear to be a woman who wastes much time on graceful segues once she's changed mental tracks, and apparently she’s done with the previous one.
This room has no more secrets to offer, she’s concluded, so there's no point in staying. A new reality means new work to be done. Best to have a look around.
==========
[[OOC: Rosalind will wander around the Sanctuary for a little while, please feel free to get in touch with her either while she's still dripping blood around the Sanctuary or else you can easily run afoul of her wandering around the city pretty much wherever.
PS Mods, can I get a character tag please and thank you <3]]
no subject
Sic transit the Taxonian welcome wagon.
no subject
Still, if the taller man had intended to fire a warning (or a parting) shot, it does find its mark; she can't resist engaging with his assertion that time is a meaningless concept. "Concepts are human constructs, and thus rarely meaningless, as they're generally built for one purpose or another. It's the perception rather than the conception of time that's flawed."
She levels her gaze at Jeremy with the air of an expectant schoolteacher. "Your colleague seems to believe you've given me all the information I need. Do you agree?"
There is a right answer to this question, so far as Rosalind's expectations go. The right answer does not involve agreeing to run off to play their little musical game.
lo siento for dropping this one T___T
"Um."
Have they? He tries to remember the stuff that's in the newbie file.
"Okay, uh, let's see: glitches, they are sometimes super-dangerous so like, make sure you have warm clothes handy and plenty of fuel and food and things..." (Jeremy's strongest glitch memory is the blizzard) "...and if you are a demon or a vampire or if you turn into a raging monster for a few days out of the month--"
(beat)
"--because of lycanthropy or something, you should tell people, and...
"And you can't get weed or guns. And you can't get out. And people here can do lots of weird shit. I think that's pretty much it."