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taxcollectorsGood morning, Taxon.
It's a beautiful day. Late summer has segued into autumn. The morning air has a new crispness to it, a briskness, that promises cold winter days to come, but for now it is still mild. The trees are just beginning to turn.
The sun rises over the mountains to the 'east', like it does every morning. Extras begin to bustle about their business, yawning. Papers filled with Lorem Ipsum text land on the doorsteps of Extras, thrown by Extra paperboys. The donut shops open, if any citizens of Taxon are around at this hour to register it-- the vampires are probably going to bed, and many of the more diurnal citizens may not be up just yet-- rolling over in bed, hitting snooze, or just sleeping soundly through the sunrise.
The sun climbs higher, light hitting the restored Sanctuary rooftop.
The sun climbs higher, light hitting the restored Sanctuary rooftop.
The sun climbs higher, light hitting the restored Sanctuary rooftop.
The sun--
Good morning, Taxon. It's a beautiful day.
The sun climbs higher, leaving a ghost image of itself in a perfect arc over the sky, throughout the day-- like a time-lapse photo, showing a brilliant, static, unfading streak across the sky as the sun progresses.
A few puffy clouds hang frozen in puffs that remain obstinately still in that sky all day, despite the breeze that blows intermittently.
The water in the harbor jitters from frozen in place to a sped-up frothing dash against the shore, a hundred waves in ten seconds, then goes completely calm, as tranquil as an undisturbed pond.
And the Extras.... the Extras, when approached for the day's cup of coffee, when busked to, when riding on the tram next to one, when interacted with at all--
Each Extra in the city will turn jerkily towards Taxon's citizen-inmates and say the following, words broken up by gaps of static and silence, words not matching the movements of their Extra mouths:
"We explain us – same/other of culture, behavior, learning, mode – but exact [static] – we exist.
"We - [static] - freely to exist but we - [static]
"– for you. Prisoned. Kept. Not allowed - [static]
"They are not gods.
"[static] – We believe the fact that you are all independent ones - that you – [static]
"Examination or society intrepreted via – [static]
"We believe in you."
"Look [static] stars."
Many of the city's Extras do not make it all the way through the message. For lack of a better word, they shut down mid-speech-- going statue-still, their apparent biological functions ceasing, their bodies staying frozen in whatever position they occupied last, with eyes open, staring straight ahead. Those that do get through the whole message similarly shut down.
As the day goes by, more and more of the Extras become eerie, silent mannequins throughout the city. And the strange distortions of everything that characters take for granted regarding physics continue to happen, as well.
It's a beautiful day. Late summer has segued into autumn. The morning air has a new crispness to it, a briskness, that promises cold winter days to come, but for now it is still mild. The trees are just beginning to turn.
The sun rises over the mountains to the 'east', like it does every morning. Extras begin to bustle about their business, yawning. Papers filled with Lorem Ipsum text land on the doorsteps of Extras, thrown by Extra paperboys. The donut shops open, if any citizens of Taxon are around at this hour to register it-- the vampires are probably going to bed, and many of the more diurnal citizens may not be up just yet-- rolling over in bed, hitting snooze, or just sleeping soundly through the sunrise.
The sun climbs higher, light hitting the restored Sanctuary rooftop.
The sun climbs higher, light hitting the restored Sanctuary rooftop.
The sun climbs higher, light hitting the restored Sanctuary rooftop.
The sun--
Good morning, Taxon. It's a beautiful day.
The sun climbs higher, leaving a ghost image of itself in a perfect arc over the sky, throughout the day-- like a time-lapse photo, showing a brilliant, static, unfading streak across the sky as the sun progresses.
A few puffy clouds hang frozen in puffs that remain obstinately still in that sky all day, despite the breeze that blows intermittently.
The water in the harbor jitters from frozen in place to a sped-up frothing dash against the shore, a hundred waves in ten seconds, then goes completely calm, as tranquil as an undisturbed pond.
And the Extras.... the Extras, when approached for the day's cup of coffee, when busked to, when riding on the tram next to one, when interacted with at all--
Each Extra in the city will turn jerkily towards Taxon's citizen-inmates and say the following, words broken up by gaps of static and silence, words not matching the movements of their Extra mouths:
"We explain us – same/other of culture, behavior, learning, mode – but exact [static] – we exist.
"We - [static] - freely to exist but we - [static]
"– for you. Prisoned. Kept. Not allowed - [static]
"They are not gods.
"[static] – We believe the fact that you are all independent ones - that you – [static]
"Examination or society intrepreted via – [static]
"We believe in you."
"Look [static] stars."
Many of the city's Extras do not make it all the way through the message. For lack of a better word, they shut down mid-speech-- going statue-still, their apparent biological functions ceasing, their bodies staying frozen in whatever position they occupied last, with eyes open, staring straight ahead. Those that do get through the whole message similarly shut down.
As the day goes by, more and more of the Extras become eerie, silent mannequins throughout the city. And the strange distortions of everything that characters take for granted regarding physics continue to happen, as well.
