taxonomites | Entries tagged with { adrian veidt

tinynarcissist.livejournal.com

The video feed shows Adrian, just around dusk, sitting on the step of a building. He has a bicycle leaned next to him, and a solemn look on his face. He has a few things he needs to say to people.

“Miss Summers, Miss Stackhouse, I need to say thank you for your help.

Mr. Luthor, I took a couple of things out of that man’s room, I hope it’s okay. I’m sure he can replace them when he comes back.

Mr. Long, I enjoyed our conversation. I’m going to read more on physics and energy when I get home. I hope you figure out how everything works here.

Miss Lehane, you shouldn’t give up. Two years is a really long time, but it’s not forever.”

[ooc: There’ll be a thread below for Watchbabies escape shenanigans, please wait until that’s posted before replying. That thread is private, otherwise this post is open for voice/visual replies, even if you’re not on the list of people he addressed. This will be tiny!Adrian's last post. :( ]

stacked

Two years. Two goddamn years. Maybe one of the geeks could tell you exactly how long that is, how many days or seconds. All Faith knows is that it's a hell of a long time to be stuck in one place, and that even if Taxon's a nicer prison than she's used to it's still a prison. The bars are wider, there's more room to run, but she's caged all the same.

She's not big on melancholy or on metaphor, but the thought of cages sends her out on a run, feet pounding against the pavement like she can outrun the idea of being stuck here forever. Not like the real world's got much more to offer, but at least there she can get the fuck out if she really tries. Here, nothing's in her control and with Willow ratting out Angel's latest life choice, Faith feels more out of control than ever. Not like she's jealous-- not like that at least, not like she wants that herself-- but Jesus, it's Buffy.

Without really thinking about it, she ends up at the zoo; then it's nothing to hop the turnstiles, make a quick stop to hatch a bottle of jack and six pack of beer and park her ass in front of the tigers, stare at them through their bars.

She's down all but one of the six pack and half the bottle of jack when her tablet turns on, recording the vaguely unsteady way she swigs right from the bottle and then sets it down next to her, staring at the big cats intensely.

"You guys got it easy, you know that? I mean, sure, prison sucks and you can't run around and all that shit, but you know where the bars are. Not a bad freaking deal, I guess. Better to be out in-- wherever the hell you live, eating bunnies and whatever, but at least you got an idea, you know? Plus, you're all new. I got two years in this place coming up. Two freaking years, Jesus."

She raises the bottle again in a toast, drinking deep. "Mazel tov, I guess. Happy anniversary to me." Next to her the tablet continues recording, unnoticed.

( ooc | tablet stuff is all good, if you want to location it up that works too! just let me know first. )

tinynarcissist.livejournal.com

In the hours since he awakened in a room not his own, in a building definitely not his parents' house, Adrian has quietly gathered as much information as he possibly can. He knows the room belongs to someone older, but a little trial and error shows him how to get clothes his own size from the kind of science-fictiony cupboard. And some time spent investigating the little communication device has given him enough information to be able to use it and navigate his way around the city.

Now the problem lies in finding out what happened to put him here, and how to get home before his parents realize he's missing. Carefully working out the best way to approach open contact with a group of strangers, he decides a simple broadcast is best. Cuddling a little purple lynx kitten in one arm, he sets up the tablet and addresses it solemnly, in perfect albeit slightly accented English.

"My name is Adrian. Can someone help me find transportation to Midtown Manhattan, please?"

[ooc: In case I forget for future reference, Adrian at this age (12) speaks with a very slight German accent.]

niteowlet.livejournal.com

Hello Taxon! You are greeted with the visual of a face peering closely into the visual feed. A tiny Dan Dreiberg is sitting cross legged on his adult counterpart's couch with his face inches away from the tablet, with nose, eyes and glasses filling the screen. He knows exactly what the device is and how to use it, but everything else is a fog. He vaguely remembers the house he is in, but he's not sure if he's supposed to be there.

"Hi! Hello? My name is Daniel Dreiberg. My parents are Benjamin and Lisa. Has anyone seen them?"

child-of-none.livejournal.com

Walter stirs under the jacket and pokes his head out. It seems too early, it's far too quiet for it to be time to wake yet, but then it hasn't stopped him in the past. He likes the quiet, without the other boys to avoid and the timing needed to make sure he gets his spot at the table, or by the window, or...most any place he's found and tried to claim as his own, barring a few.

But as he sits up, he realizes something isn't right. There's no bed, no rows of beds at all, or even walls. He's on the ground, outside, under a trench coat. How did he get here? He doesn't remember getting sent away from Charleton, or even sneaking out after lights out...And where is here, anyway?

There's something in his pocket, and he pulls it out to regard it curiously, chewing on his lip in thought as he tries to figure out what it is. There's a button, and it makes a click that gets a startled jump out of him, and suddenly there's a lighter patch, and symbols all lined up. The citizens of Taxon who may be watching this are now treated to the image of a small, underfed, snub-nosed boy with a shock of bright red hair and more freckles than skin looking at the screen in a combination of undisguised curiosity and wariness. Walter frowns, unable to puzzle out the machine, then puts it down and gives his attention to the rest of his surroundings.

[ooc: for the next two weeks, Rorschach is now a tiny! feel free to let your muses stop by through coincidence or design, or just poke their heads in on the tablet; he'll be much more receptive to new people than usual so feel free to exploit the opportunity.]

ironfright.livejournal.com

[ filtered to Kurt; ]
Haven't seen you around. Whatever happened to that happy club or whatever it was you wanted to start?

[ sorry -- whomever has the tablet at this point -- he doesn't know Kurt was attacked by Rose ]

[ filtered to Adrian Veidt; ]
Did you ever find your kitty-sitter?

---

About damn time everyone was let out again. [ he means of the Sanctuary ] Though I'm not eager for an encore, so I think I'll find somewhere else to stay.

Something's happened to the minnow. Is this one of those glitch things?

stacked

[ here's the thing about faith. slayers eat a lot in general, and between prison and growing up without much food faith is the worst of the lot. and while the junk food the hatches are sending out is great for most of the day, she starts needing something meatier. literally. usually she'd just hatch herself a burger, but anything not chips and crap seems to be off the menu.

the issue here: faith can't cook for shit. so when she turns on her tablet and glares into it-- only wearing a sports bra and sweats, natch-- half-annoyed and half-shamefaced, there's a vaguely recognizable lump of meat laying blackened on the counter next to her. ]

So, two things. First, anybody any good at throwing down? ...Or sparring, whatever. If we gotta be trapped, we can at least have some fun. And not to be a bitch or whatever, but if you took a couple self-defense classes at the Y you don't count.

[ ...right. "fun". with a sigh she dumps the lump of effective charcoal in the garbage. ]

Second, anybody any good at cooking? I can pay, seriously. I just need some freaking meat, screw all this pbj crap. [ usually people say 'please help me', faith darling. ] Anyway, yeah. That's all I got.

[ ooc | faith's in the ninth floor kitchen, being fail and cooking and half naked. as you do. location or tablets, or if you want to do a different location later in the day let me know and we'll hook it up! ]

eventextras.livejournal.com

It's around five o'clock in the morning when the citizens of Taxon find themselves inexplicably transported into rooms within the Sanctuary. Doors are left open and beds unmade, food abandoned and lights left on, still shining brightly for those who were awake and are no longer present. The Extras don't seem to notice the captive population's sudden disappearance, continuing on with their business as usual.

For those relocated, though, it's an entirely different story.

They find themselves in rooms with white, alabaster walls that gives them an almost too-clean feeling, as if the entire place was sanitized prior to their arrival. The room assignments are seemingly random, people placed on floors with those they don't know and don't like, people they would rather not be within twenty feet of. It matters not, for what's done is done and cannot be undone. For those who happen to have pets, they'll find them waiting for their owners in the rooms as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

The only thing the captives have managed to bring with them is the clothes on their back and the tablets. On them, they find the following message:

SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY WHILE WE ADDRESS CERTAIN TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

Unfortunately for those who try to find a means of escape, they'll discover there is none. Leaving the Sanctuary will prove to be as difficult as leaving Taxon itself. However, if one heads down the right corridor and the right floor, they'll find something else entirely lurking in their midst...

( ooc | sorry for the delay in posting! your mods were otherwise occupied with things of the irl variety this morning. THIS BE A PARTY POST, Y'ALL. room assignments are here, and refer back to the sott post proper for any additional information. please contact us with any questions/concerns you may have in regards to this plot. ♥ )

patricide

The city will never be home, but at least now he is starting to gain some sense of control. Between the unexpected temporary population boom, the various incarnations of vampire panic, and now the recently ended language glitch it was easy for the average person to be constantly reminded of how far from home they had been transported. Maybe Lex wasn't in Kansas anymore (he can say that literally, thank you) but he was determined to both bring with him a sense of the familiar and improve upon it.

He wasn't CEO back in Metropolis, though like Taxon keeps reminding him, things are different here. The building may be his father's but the research project was his own and no one could take away his hard work that had grown from a single idea. In the late morning Lex walks through Luthor Plaza, surveying the overall progress that has been made in a few short weeks. He stops where various people work, listening attentively at the status reports before moving on. Winding his way back, Lex checks back in with Quinn in his own office before joining Adrian for their usual meeting over lunch.

[ooc: ok! so here's how this is going to work: i basically gave excuse for lex to be anywhere in the building. if you want him to run into your character who works for luthorcorp, tag in here and feel free to dictate the location within luthor plaza. since there was talk about cr building i wanted to give us the chance to do it before the big sanctuary plot. :) Wikus and Quinn especially, I'm looking at you!]

malleableness.livejournal.com

ya'll gotta minute? just wanna ask a question b4 startin the day.
is anyone here a super biogenetic genius of sorts? i got some questions i'd really like answered. thnx

~ Becky

defenestration

'Unpacking' is something of a misnomer for what Adrian is doing, seeing as his entire wardrobe consists of several changes of underwear and socks, two shirts, and two pairs of pants. (Which he does not wash himself, thank goodness for dry cleaners and laundry services.) The costume is packed carefully in a box until he has the chance to get a proper display form for it -- no point in keeping it hidden, the whole city saw him in it when he arrived.

Bubastis is lounging on the floor at the foot of the bed, and Adrian is standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back, as he makes a mental checklist of the things he will eventually need to acquire to make the place comfortable. He should probably find some subtle way of thanking Lex for the job and its perks without coming off as too grateful. Pride, you know.

selfmadman

It's an Olympic-size pool, water stretching on clear as glass for fifty meters—far enough, almost, to get lost swimming a lap. Gutters gouged into the sides slurp down the overflow; a faint, nearly subliminal buzz hangs in the muggy air. He plunges in and hacks his way down the lane, arms out of practice, lungs burning, legs kicking up a choppy wake. Sound recedes. He's robbed only of his gasps for air, the sporadic eruptions of coughing when he reaches a wall.

He fights through the first few laps and settles into a rhythm, keeping pace with the Extra a lane over until he lags behind (they never pull ahead—their strokes graceful or tortured, the Extras move implacably through the water). Thoughts come easier as he swims, easier and more fully formed than the shards he's usually tweezing out.

He flips onto his back and drifts, weightless.

When he climbs out it feels like he's still underwater. His eyes sting with chlorine. He towels off in the locker room, buttons his shirt and fastens his belt and straps his watch to his wrist. He taps out a message while slouched against the wall:

How have you been keeping busy?

defenestration

[Adrian is sitting in the Owl Cave, waiting for Dan and Rorschach to show for another meeting. He has some interesting information to share, and he's certain he won't be the only one. While he waits, he figures he might as well use the time to get a little 'research' done.]

I'm curious -- what kind of professions did all of you hold before coming here to Taxon? And related to a more personal need, do any of you have experience with animals?

[ooc: Location for Watchmen, voice for everyone else. Backdating to some point between Dawn's fight with Adrian and her unglitching ceremony.]

tothelibrary.livejournal.com

[ the tablet clicks on to reveal dawn; she's sitting in her room at the castle, hair wet and pulled back in a tight ponytail, looking fragile and practically swimming in a sweatshirt that only a few people left in taxon will recognize as xander's. ]

Hi-- um. I should have probably planned what I was going to say before I turned this on. It might make this easier. Or... less whatever. Something.

I just wanted to apologize to anyone I-- [ she swallows hard ] hurt, this month. I didn't mean to, but not like that means a lot because I still did. It was a glitch, but-- that doesn't make it better. Or okay. So I'm just so, so sorry. And whatever I can do to make up for it, I'll do. I just-- I'm sorry.

[ she fumbles with her tablet for a second, and this last bit is locked to paul and mattie. ]

I'm-- well, I'm still sorry. But I hurt you both, even if it wasn't me-me. And if you both don't ever want to be around me again, I understand but if I can do anything to make amends, I will. [ she opens her mouth to add something else, then shrugs, shoulders slumping. ] I'm just so sorry.

( ooc | post-glitch! backtagging on horrors is still a go for those who want to, and this post is around for ooc workout if you want/need it. )

givesahoot.livejournal.com

Rorschach. Adrian. I need to talk to you both in person. Now.

It had been a long time since his place had been used to hold meetings. Though Dan was not in uniform, he was starting to feel like old times were coming back full circle. Before coming to Taxon he had helped thwart a mugging. Now he had just helped save a girl from what he was pretty sure was a vampire. The old itch of needing to do something more had worked its way back into his mind again and this time he wasn't going to remain idle.

Dan anxiously stood in his basement, waiting for an answer either via text or in person. Both Adrian and Rorschach knew how to let themselves in. He had already resigned himself to installing a new lock after tonight was over.

[OOC: This is a locked post to Watchmen only. The text is locked and encrypted from prying eyes several times over. I was thinking that unless either person has something to say over text we can jump right into arrivals for the meeting? We will keep the same tagging order with accordance to the first three comments. Backdated to the night of May 8 as soon as Don and Mattie leave Dan's place.]

patricide

In Lex's mind three weeks ample time to not only get himself acclimated, but start being useful to Taxon. He had currently been in this city for two weeks and six days, with his internal deadline drawing near. The temporary population boom during his first few days was a bit of an obstacle, but not one that couldn't be overcome.

Thankfully he was not entirely without the comforts of home as it seemed as if Luthor Plaza had decided to travel with him. That was more than enough motivation to move forward with his plans. First order of business was rendering the unused science labs operational which required gathering and setting up new equipment, as well as a good cleaning that he was damn sure not going to use an extra for. (The latter he wasn't necessarily ashamed of, but Lex was inclined to keep that one to himself.)

With one lab ready to go and his personal office set up, Lex was ready to begin to get to work. Never one to say no to ceremony, even when it was on his own, Lex stands outside the skyscraper and breaks a bottle of champagne against its outer wall.

stepintoshadows.livejournal.com

His new city is dark and empty. Rorschach walks the streets, as he has every night and will continue to for as long as he remains here, despite the fact that he has yet to do any significant good during his patrols. He covers the entirety of the city every night, and by now his feet know the way without having to be told. He likes to think he's memorized every inch of it by now, and while it's not entirely accurate quite yet, it's certainly close enough.

It's why the tarp covering the side of the building stands out so much. Just in one place, plastered against the side like rotting leaves clinging to the trunk of some great hulking tree. He's seen it on multiple occasions, every time he's passed the building, actually, but its continued presence is what attracts his attention now. It should be repaired by now; society rebels at the cracks and breaks, the proof that the impenetrable shield of normality they comfort themselves with is not infallible.

So why is it still there? What does it hide? He looks for a way up to it in order to investigate; fire escape seems to be the best option. The ascent is a matter of moments, muscles long used to the task propelling him upwards with ease, and he pulls the edge of the tarp away to peek beyond it, inky shapes swirling in uncertain curiosity. An apartment. Unsurprising in an apartment building. He pulls himself up and over the broken and crumbling bricks into the room beyond, taking a moment to examine the edges of the break, but the score marks that mar their surfaces can't be right. What would cause it? He pulls one free to look more closely from the privacy of the room, paying no mind to either the room itself nor any occupants it may or may not contain, having already decided that with a hole in the wall there is no possible way it could still be inhabited.

The tablet, having toppled out of a coat pocket during his entrance, drops to the floor with a muffled thud and promptly switches on, revealing both the vigilante examining the brick and some of the room beyond, albeit at a somewhat strange angle given its position on the floor. Rorschach doesn't appear to notice its temporary disappearance from his pocket.

faderbroderson

The thing about cars is, if you don't drive them, they break down. Godric isn't entirely sure this holds true in Taxon, considering that the cars, like everything else, are alien-made and seem to be impervious to permanent harm. But he's never had any wish to test the theory on his Aston Martin DB9, which was a gift of sorts from Angel. So on occasion, he chooses to drive around the city rather than walk or run as only a vampire can.

(Eric's corvette needs to be taken out at some point as well, but Godric doesn't have the heart for it yet.)

That's why tonight, Godric is cruising the city streets in his car, with no particular destination in mind. His tablet is resting on the seat next to him, and comes on without his knowledge just as he pulls up to the curb and parks in front of a hobby store. He smiles faintly, then reaches for his tablet and sees that it's already recording.

"A new board game, Lilla Amiralen?" The message is clearly only meant for one person, though the broadcast is public. Feel free to respond anyway, or approach in person.

patricide

Lex crossed the hallway to his father's LuthorCorp office as he had done many times before. The path was instinctual and the muscle memory carried him along while he made a mental to-do list for tasks to accomplish later in the day. "Confiscating the computers of a bunch of high schoolers? That's a little dramatic, don't you think?" Lex didn’t wait for Lionel Luthor's reaction as he pushed the office door open.

Instead of being greeted by a desk and Lionel's mane of hair Lex found himself in a room even larger than the one he was expecting. Before moving or speaking he took note of this new space and its architecture. He noticed a platform and beyond that a door sealed shut. It was good to know there was a theoretical way out at least.

"I take it back, Dad," Lex called to the open air, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "The computers were nothing. This is overkill on the drama. How did you manage to keep all this construction a secret?" He took his time walking to the platform that seemed to have some kind of object resting on it. If this was some kind of new test for Lex to prove himself, he hoped it was on the less lethal side of things.

givesahoot.livejournal.com

It had been a few days since Adrian's arrival and thankfully (surprisingly?) there had been no fights as of yet. Disagreements on the other hand were something else entirely. Never was it made more obvious that Dan Dreiberg and Adrian Veidt led entirely different lives than when they had to live in the same house until Adrian got back on his feet. Dan had prepared a meal for his guest and was waiting at the kitchen table when one of Adrian's complaints began to nag at him.

He dragged his tablet from where it lay on the table and turned on the text function: Sweaters aren't a bad thing to wear, right?