I [ HOLO ] - ARRIVAL.

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

The sound Samuels's neck had made when it snapped had been glorious, a sound fit to herald in his term as President. He was so close. Nathan had been properly disposed of, the poor fool, and there was no sign of Peter or Noah. He was going to succeed. He was actually going to...

And it was all gone in a matter of seconds, his vision whiting out and leaving him standing in... well he wasn't sure exactly what he was in, but it wasn't where he wanted to be.

Gritting his teeth, Sylar attempted to quell his rage as he scanned the area he'd arrived in. It looked like something out of some science fiction B movie, a perfectly equipped sterile environment complete with fancy equipment for interstellar kidnapping. Not that he was complaining at all about the equipment. The sheer complexity of what was hanging above him was enough to make his hidden geeky heart flutter, his eyes scanning this way and that over the object to try and make some sense of it, to take in the structure and the design in a way that he wasn't used to having to do. Because for some reason, his ability wasn't telling him exactly what it did. Confusion and a slight annoyance regaining in him, as he pulled his eyes away from the device, it hit him just why his ability wasn't working.

"This is an impressive illusion, Parkman," Sylar called out around him as he started down the steps in front of him. "Exactly how far away from the limo am I? A yard? A foot? Could I reach out and grab the door handle? There's only so long your little mind games are going to work on me. I'll find a way out of this," He drawled, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.

There wasn't really much for him to see here. Nothing to interact with. No nightmares to plague him. It wasn't the type of place that he would have expected the telepath to trap him. And yet still, here he was. Pivoting back towards the platform that he'd just left, Sylar spotted something that he hadn't before, raising a hand and catching the object that raced off the pedestal at the beckoning of his telekinesis. Odd. It didn't look like much. And what was the purpose that it served here?

"I'm not getting your little game, Matt. If you want something, you're going to have to be clearer."

Still no response. Not that he'd expected one. Parkman wasn't the type to toy with people even if he was, from the looks if it, starting to fall victim to the darker side of his ability. Good. The more they made hypocrites of themselves, the less work he had to do to believe that they were no better than him. At least he was honest about what he did.

But this. This didn't make sense. He was in the middle of nowhere with no one and nothing except a phone and...a horrible itch on his wrist. Gaze jerking down to his own body at last it occurred to him that some point between where he had been and where he was (he wasn't so sure this was an illusion anymore), he had reverted back to his original appearance. That was his fingers, his hand, his arm, and yet the juncture where his hand met his wrist had apparently been replaced by a silver metallic plate fused seamlessly to his skin. And it was that skin that was now protesting the intrusion, attempting to healing over the area in which the item now resided.

His first instinct was to cut it out, remove this mysterious technological cancer before it decided to spread. But a momentary flash in his mind, a question of whether or not it would be important and if such hasty actions now would result in far more regret later, steadied the hand that had lifted to slice at his skin. Best to leave it where it was at the moment. Even if the itch might drive him mad.

"Is someone going to tell me what's going on here or not?!"

Please?

Comments

[holo]

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

Dawn sets her tablet to holo, as well, because... well, because she's a geek and it's awesome and also, it is never going to get old. So hi Sylar, have a perky recently nineteen year old in hologram form, waving and trying to get your attention.

"Sorry to be all bad new bearer-y, but I don't think we have any Matts here. Or limos, which is kind of sad because limos are admittedly really cool."

She smiles, a little apologetically. "You're not where you're supposed to be. Welcome to Taxon."

[holo]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

That was...interesting. Certainly not the response he'd been expecting and certainly not the kind of individual he'd been anticipating would reply if anyone did. But it was something, at least. Better than being mired in a quagmire of confusion. No Matt and no limo, and apparently he was in another place entirely since he was sure that there was nowhere in the whole of DC called Taxon.

"That much I can see," Sylar drawled as he studied the hologram with slightly raised eyebrows. She looked around Claire's age, perhaps a little older. And just as annoyingly perky as the blond could be when she was in an oblivious good mood. No reason to ruin that by being needlessly forceful. "How, exactly, did I get here, and why was I tagged?" He asked, holding up his arm so that the metallic bracelet would be visible. Or rather, so it would be if she was seeing him how he was seeing her. Very curious.

[holo]

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

If it doesn't have horns, fangs, or any outwardly demonic (and obvious) signs of hinky evil going on, Dawn is on the blissfully clueless side. It's a Sunnydale thing.

"Yeah, it's on the obvious side. Unless where someone's from looks like a set from a bad SciFi channel movie, then it might be a little harder to pinpoint." She holds up her wrist, and pushes the few bangles around it up enough to show off her own bracelet. "We all have them. Except the creepy pod people, which is so the second half of Taxon 101." Dawn frowns a little, then shrugs. As a researcher, the whole 'lack of concrete knowledge' thing surrounding how and why people came to (and apparently, sometimes, left) Taxon was something like a personal insult. "The why seems to be like... I guess a monitoring device? I mean, it's just a theory at this point. In addition to not really being big on the cake and friendly hello type greetings, our alien overlords are pretty lax on explaining... anything."

She pauses, then: "The alien overlords thing is a joke. I mean, there might be aliens? We don't really know. But it's easier to make a joke out of it than give into the frustration of being kidnapped by nameless, faceless boogedies, no matter how comfortable the surroundings are."

[holo]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

Normally, someone babbling like this would grate on his nerves, but given that it was relatively informative babble, he could forgive her for it. Even if the explanation made him want to reconsider his decision not to cut the metal bracelet out of his skin. Sparing it another glance, Sylar tried to ignore the frustration that was growing in the back of his mind at not being able to tell what it was, what it did, and what it was for with little to no effort. He'd been grateful to be free of the ability during the eclipse simply because it had given him the freedom to think again, but his mind was still as clouded as ever. It was wasn't working.

"And given that, from the looks of it, they're implanted, I would imagine deconstructing one would be against the question," Sylar said, his tone less acerbic and more thoughtful than it had been before.

He raised his gaze back to the projected image, a very slight amusement crossing his face as she explained she was joking. It was good thing that she had because he had been about to ask. Honestly, given the situation, it was probably a valid theory even if she was joking. This certainly didn't look like anything the Company was capable of, or that the government was, any government. Not that he wanted to dwell on those thoughts.

"A gilded cage is still a cage."

[holo]

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

"I don't think we can, actually. In my experience, and from asking around, they're kind of... forced accessorizing. They don't chip, they don't break, they don't come off. It's like they're part of us now?" She looks down at hers and glares a little. "Stupid things. But at least they help us program the hatches!"

The cage remark gets a snort, and all of a sudden the flighty teenager looks considerably less flighty. "Duh. But on the scale? It's not bad. Hot and cold running Starbucks, anything we want at our fingertips... it's pretty obviously a prison, but given this or like... ugly orange jumpsuits and mystery meat, I go with this."

[holo]

[buck-the-system.livejournal.com]

"You're actually not going to find a way out of this if the oh, I don't know how many frakking people live here. Look, if the other people here haven't figured it out and been gone already, you're certainly not going to, so settle the hell down and shut up a minute."

Kara takes a long, slow pull out of a bottle of what appears to be some top-shelf whiskey, eying Sylar with an expression that is clearly unimpressed.

"No game here. You've picked up from whatever rock you came from and dropped here. You're stuck, there's no way out, and you might as well get used to it. This place is called Taxon, there are devices that'll give you food, clothing, whatever you need, and for the gods' sake, shut the hell up, I'm drinking here."

Another pull from the bottle. Kara watches to see the young man's response. He's clearly upset. She doesn't really care, but staring at him? Well... it's better than staring at the wall for another nightly showing of 'What's New on the Drywall!"

[holo]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

Oh, wonderful. A drunk woman was yelling at him. His night was now complete. Annoyance was the one reaction that he was having at the moment, and it was etched clearly on his features as he studied the projected image. There was nothing that he could do to an image, but burning that face into his mind, he'd find something to do if the opportunity ever arose where he was able.

Nobody spoke to him like that. Not anymore.

"I certainly didn't ask for your opinion. These devices must have an off button. If you don't like what you see, you can look elsewhere."

Then again, he was lost. And sending away someone who seemed to actually have a decent idea what was going on would be a hasty move. Time to backtrack.

"Then again..."

[buck-the-system.livejournal.com]

Yeah, sorry about that. Kara's not quite as drunk as she'd like to be, so she takes another sip of the liquor, enjoying the slow burn down her throat and into her stomach. She's not so inebriated either that she doesn't notice the way that the man is practically boring holes into her head with his eyes. That doesn't much intimidate her either. She's used to rooks giving her the same look after she's reamed their asses up one side of the deck to the other and it's nothing she's not incredibly used to.

"Nope, sure didn't, but you managed to bitch your way into my attention, so here we are!"

The change in his behavior has her confused. Kara sets down the bottle of whiskey and narrows her eyes at the little holographic image of the man standing in the Sanctuary.

"Yeah? Got something else clever?"

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

Someone needed a rather severe attitude adjustment, or at least a check in with reality if she thought that she could talk to anyone, especially people that she was unfamiliar with, and get away with it without so much as a scratch or ill word. But coming off affronted was not the strategy that he had in mind. No, one won more flies with honeyed words than they did by squashing them.

"I suppose I could provide clever if that was what you wished," Sylar said, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth like they always did when he played up the more amiable part of his personality without feeling like the individual deserved it. "But I'd rather ask a few questions. For one, exactly what am I supposed to go now that I have been rather unceremoniously dumped here?"

[buck-the-system.livejournal.com]

That question earns a bit of a curious - read, suspicious - look from Kara. She sets down the bottle of whiskey and leans forward, peering down at the holographic image of the man before her. Kara's got no patience for most people, and this guy should probably be grateful that she's helping him at all.

"Frak," she replies, the inflection of the word clearly denoting it as a curse. She chews on her lower lip, leaning back into her couch in her apartment, cradling the bottle of alcohol in one arm and holding the tablet with her other hand. If the man looks closely, she's actually got some bandages and some very clear bruises on her arms. "Really, it's basically whatever you want to do. Take over Taxon and rule with an iron fist? Yeah, go ahead and try. Want to compose a symphony? Write a novel? Go play badminton? Sure, have at it."

Kara lolls her head back against the couch, exposing a surprisingly long neck. "Look," she says, continuing to watch the young man as if he's a snake more than a human being. "Now that you've been uh, rather unceremoniously dumped here, do whatever you want. There really isn't a purpose to us being here that we can tell other than we're just supposed to live in this city, pick fights with each other and for me? I drink and paint. That's really about all there is to do. If you're feeling really courageous you can, you know, try to escape, but there's no point, since just about everyone who's showed up here before has tried, failed and tried s'more and failed, and after that, well, it just gets annoying."

[holo]

[freaks-myword.livejournal.com]

Something Gwen, fairly new herself, hasn't gotten used to: Getting front row seats and surround sound on every arrival. She isn't much for giving out warm greetings, but this one peaks her interest. So, what the hell? Here she was, waving a cheery 'welcome' flag.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, sugar bear, but if this is a game? I think we're pretty much toast."

[holo]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

Sugar Bear? A random nickname for no reason delivered a punch to his gut from his memory, his mind flickering back over a cheeky blond that had had the same sort of habit. Mentally shaken, his expression had dulled from anger and annoyance to just blank when he turned his gaze down to this member of the welcome wagon.

"I guess it's a good thing that I don't go down easy, then."

And that hadn't come out nearly as self-assured as he had hoped for. At least he hadn't sounded like the complete weakling that he used to be, but his voice had wavered more than he would have liked it to. Sylar knew that he had very few weaknesses left. Unfortunately, she had inadvertently triggered one of them.

[holo]

[freaks-myword.livejournal.com]

Had she been at the top of her game, had her good 'ol thief senses and keen observation not been dulled and shaken by her own arrival into this strange place, maybe she would have seen this newcomer's slight crack in defense.

"That's what we all say. This place? Has a way of putting a nice, tight collar on you."

Maybe it's her way of getting out some aggression that Taxon effectively took away her life, her career, and her freedom of secrecy. Here she is, a freak without a purpose, and crushing the hopes of this one just kind of makes her feel a little better.

[holo]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

Nice, tight collar? Oh, no. That was definitely not happening. He didn't do sit and stay, and he definitely didn't heel. They had given their best shot at reining him in already, and there wasn't much that he could see a nice bit of metal and some fancy computer systems could manage that they couldn't.

"And sometimes the dog bites when you try and tie it down."

An apt analogy considering that was the emotional equivalent of a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. Not that anyone could ever get him to admit that he'd considered himself that way at one point. Then again, nobody could get him to admit to a lot of the thoughts that flickered through his mind. They were better kept to himself.

[holo]

[freaks-myword.livejournal.com]

Now this is definitely a pleasant surprise. Whether or not the sucker has a chance at breaking some skin with that bite of his, it's nice to see someone who isn't all 'Sorry, you're out of luck' and 'You need the Tablet' and 'We're basically sitting ducks'.

"Don't let me stop you, handsome. For the record? It's called Taxon. Heaven for the technology nerds, if you're into that sorta stuff," she smiles with a trace of bitterness. She'd spent years ripping off millions from people who relied on technology to keep them safe, and here she was, caged in and relying on that stuff. What? She can't be bitter?

"You let me know if you need a hand," she continues, holding up one gloved hand and waving it a bit. "Figuratively, of course."

[visual]

[gating-across.livejournal.com]

"Well, it all depends. What exactly are you looking for?"

Sheppard's face poked from the bottom of the screen on the tablet. He had been working on attempting to figure out exactly how the life sign scanner worked. Thankfully it had been on his person when he arrived in Taxon, and could only be operated by the ATA Gene. Kirk had said he needed help with the sensors he was tinkering with (instead of babysitting) that one time. He wasn't Rodney McKay, but hell. If he could figure out how to to plug it into something else? He'd be set.

[visual]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

"Unfortunately, what I'm looking for doesn't seem to be present," Sylar replied, tilting the tablet so that he could get a better look at the individual that had just addressed him. There wasn't really too much he could say. I'm looking for where I belong, or I was in DC a few seconds ago just seemed pointless now. So instead, Sylar backed up, sitting himself down on the steps of the podium. He might as well get comfortable until he figured out exactly where to go from here.

And that itch was driving him mad. Holding out the tablet, Sylar pulled back his hand as he held it in the air with the telekinesis, moving his other hand to scratch at the skin fussed around the metallic bracelet. "Do you have anything to say any different from the rest of them, or should I just move on?"

[visual]

[gating-across.livejournal.com]

He pushed himself from under the console he was working on. There was a glance sent to someone who was apparently off screen. His hand went up to set the the tablet onto the console above, tilting it forward so that he could still see it as he worked on the scanner. Sheppard of course knew how it worked by thought. Just not how all the pieces worked together.

Though he did look back up at the screen when the stranger addressed him. Newbie. "I'm going to assume they've told you the basics about what the place is. So I'll lend you a hand and explain the device. Seems like everyone finds one when they come here. Comes with a lot of handy ways to keep in contact with people. Projects holographic images, video conversations like this one, normal phone calls. You can apparently also make private calls and private messages on it.

"Beyond that and the silver bracelet on your arm? Nothing really left to do besides introductions. Which, by the way, the bracelet won't come off." Sheppard saw the scratching and figured it was just best to inform him. "John Sheppard."

[visual]

[tiberiuskirk.livejournal.com]

Kirk had been in the back at Spock's station, poking at the controls there while Sheppard tinkered with the controls at the conn. He looked up when he saw Sheppard speaking to the tablet and being that he didn't know where he'd last sat his down at (it was probably buried beneath the mess of wires and pulled off paneling that was the result of his newest I'M GOING TO SOLVE THIS MYSTERY idea that involved reworking the bridges systems, nevermind the fact that they weren't, technically, connected to anything to start with), he simply went over to where the other man was and peered over his shoulder--

And snatched the tablet away to gape at the screen. "Spock!?"

[visual]

[stacked]

Faith raises an eyebrow at her tablet, and shakes her head, laughing a little. "All the new kids got the attitude going. Good to see some shit stays the same no matter where you are."

She smiles. It's... not exactly a nice smile, not really. "Taxon. Cushiest freaking prison you're ever gonna check into."

[visual]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

"A simple pillow and blanket would make this place cushier than the ones that I'm used to," Sylar said, easily returning the not too nice smile. As it was, the Company had their prisoners use what would equate to a morgue slab as a bed. Granted, there were nicer rooms. He'd seen them. Probably used for the more cooperative and less powerful 'detainees,' but he'd hardly qualified in either regard.

Sylar couldn't help but note that there hadn't been a familiar face yet among the ones that had greeted him. Perhaps this place really was going to be a lot simpler to deal with than what he was used to.

[visual]

[stacked]

"Nobody tried to make me watch Glitter in this one and there's all the free beer I want. Not a bad deal." She doesn't move-- still laying on the couch, apparently relaxed-- but her awareness kicks into high gear at the returned smile. Maybe the newbie's dangerous, maybe he's not, but all the money Faith doesn't have is on him being more on her side of the line than Buffy's.

"You got a name?"

[visual]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

A name? He had several: his original, his preferred, and the dozens of aliases that he'd went through from the previous year to now. But there was a nagging in the back of his mind that said a name like Sylar would provoke too many raised eyebrows and questions. And those were questions that, at the moment, he simply didn't want to have to deal with. Not that he would tell the truth either way. There was also the issue that he may forget which alias he gave to whom, or get confused enough that he wouldn't respond to the right one. The issues of overlap also came into play, so as much as he hated it, he was left with only one option.

"Gabriel."

[visual]

[crowzley.livejournal.com]

When the visual clicks on to show Crowley, he's lounging a little too comfortably on a white sofa, amused expression all in the mouth and eyebrows as he's wearing sunglasses for no immediately apparent reason.

"Well, I'd give that entrance an eight out of ten," he drawls, English accent cheerful and lazy all at once.

[visual]

[godlikesin.livejournal.com]

"So glad I could entertain," Sylar drawled back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He must have made quite the show with the number of people that seemed to be lining up to comment on it. Not that he could blame them entirely. Being trapped in this glorified ratbox must bore the population to tears. Especially if there was no one around to make it interesting.

Granted, he hadn't bothered to step outside these walls yet. No sense in rushing it.

Eying the visual of the other man, Sylar couldn't help but be vaguely amused. Sunglasses? Inside? Someone was clearly trying a little too hard to be cool. "The fluorescent lights around this place must be blinding."