taxonomites | Entries tagged with { helen magnus

It had been a few days since everyone had returned, since the chaos of what had occurred had ended. And someone was missing. It would have been easy to notice in a place of this size but for Helen this person was hard to miss - he'd been living with her.

And she cared.

She'd made certain to check when everything had ended, sending first a text to his tablet before checking every room in the Sanctuary. She'd left it a few days before openly checking the network, giving him chance to reply or for him to show up in the Sanctuary.

And he hadn't.

It made Helen worry; if he hadn't returned was anyone else trapped? And if not... she could still think of him, still worry unlike when she hadn't seen James for some time. This was different, and it wasn't good.

When Helen flicked on her tablet, using voice rather than visual (she didn't know quite how composed she was, announcing (asking) something like this was different to a thought, she kept her query short; keeping it concise.

"It's been a little time since you returned from what occurred, and hopefully those that were affected are well and unharmed?" She paused briefly, giving enough of a pause to be polite before moving on.

"I was wondering if anyone had seen a man named Dwight Hendrickson whilst they were there, or after they'd returned?" If not... it would be obvious, she thought, as to what had happened.

Helen left it there, not adding on her further thought of 'I haven't heard from him since' to it. She hoped that the worst hadn't occurred.

Helen shut off her tablet, shrinking it back down to pocket size before letting out a soft sigh. It had been a long time since she'd felt this; loss was one thing but these feelings attached? Picking her tablet up Helen slipped it into her jacket pocket, exitting her office - she needed to think.

longaevus

[ Filtered away from Adam Worth / Hyde ]
Good day. As many of you are aware of from a few days previous there is a man that has recently arrived from my world. His name is Adam Worth. He's someone that I have known for quite some time and if speaking with him or you see him I'd like to ask you to remain cautious. The story is complicated however Adam will not hesitate to use any means necessary to find a way to myself.

[ Or Ashley, even James ]

I'd like to add to that that you do not challenge nor confront him. Please.

[ Ashley Magnus ]
I need to speak with you.

[ James Watson ]
Are you free for dinner? [ She knows that you are, given that it's her house. Humour her ]

[ ooc; so badly backdated to a couple of days after adam's arrival... procrastination yeah ]

hydeous

[it isn't London. That much is abundantly clear. Adam Worth stops short and instinctively half-turns to look over his shoulder for a nonexistent something - or perhaps someones - but wastes little time slipping down the stairs, stealing alert glances along the way. Even if the extra-dimensional rift leading through time and space back to his subterranean lab had been there when he looked it wouldn't have been an option, the least of which because the immense power necessary to generate and sustain said portal is a fickle beast, the harness fashioned temporary at best. Yet temporary was all he required. Let it rampage, turn what's left of Praxis to dust. There's no turning back. As if he - they - want to.

Upon reaching the floor he follows the line of the platform away from what may be a door. There he watchfully frees a hand by depositing one of two rugged-looking cases in the meager cover. No, definitely not London, or at least not of the time period he was aiming for. But why? Thumbnail touches teeth. A miscalculation? No. The equations were faultless, beyond sound, which left only one alternative. Digits clench. Interference. Though by what, or - he draws a Praxian energy pistol - whom.

The only place to look for answers appears to be a nearby pedestal. Weapon ready, he approaches, placing the second case - carrying a far more precious cargo than the first - gently at its base, freeing that hand to sweep the cornice for security measures before he touches what tops it. The tablet's bi-dimensional interface is beyond accessible, almost boring, and he knows the name of his location soon enough.

The Sanctuary. They should have known]

Heaven hath no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor Hell a fury, like a WOMAN scorned. [he recites grandly for anyone - or really just one particular someone - to hear, before slipping back into merely projecting his British-accented speech] Of all people I should've allowed for the possibility that a dysfunctional couple could be greater than the sum of its parts. [shrug] Live and learn.

[he's in motion now, casual but alert, taking in his surroundings] Love what you've done with the place. [hazel eyes pick up the bracelet but readily drop it, disinterested] A kinder, gentler, panopticon... very nice. I called you a bore, yes? I take it back. Never a dull moment where Helen Magnus is concerned. You certainly know how to show a miscreant a good time. If you don't believe me ask Johnny, I'm sure he'll agree.

[with the silence movement slows, morphing into something akin to pacing, stalking] Now, Helen. [he announces impatiently] Don't play hard to get, because we both know you aren't. We know you're here. A Sanctuary without a Magnus... it's like a cart without the horse, a parent without a child...

secretshame

Jenna was at the Dodgy Jammer that day, cleaning up. She'd been trying to deny what she's suspected for a few days, but somehow, today had smacked it into her that she no longer could. He was gone, back home and good for him, and she needed to deal with it.

He'd told her he wanted a party if he ever went home, so that was what she was going to do. No tears, Jenna Sommers. When she flipped the tablet feed onto visual, she was smiling, albeit with a lot of difficulty.

"Hey, Taxon. Jenna here. Just wanted to let everyone know that Fitz has gone home. I'll be taking over the Dodgy Jammer, so you're not out of a place to drink and make merry yet. And speaking of, I'm throwing a party for him. He said he wanted one if he ever left, so bring your party hats and leave the tears at the door. Got it?"

She took a deep breath and toasted the feed.

"I'll be here all day and if you're looking for a job, I'm sure we could work something out. It's hard to make a place like this work by yourself."

unnaturalpause

With a yawn he woke up.

...Wait woke up? When had he, what had, just what was going on? He shouldn't be asleep, he had been working on something, and then. Well now he was in his room and just when in the world was it? Not where, he knew that, but how long had he been out?

Which meant bypassing the normal routine of checking over his appearance to see if he was presentable, to pick up the tablet. May as well, check in, make sure they knew he was alive and still here (however much he hated that part really even if he was going to well, die back home) after all.

So turning the tablet on visual, slightly messed hair and wrinkled clothes, James spoke. "I seem, to have, been indisposed of for some time," that was a polite way to put it, "would anyone care to, share what I seem to have missed these last few weeks?"

sourcebloodaughter

“Ashley… please.”

Ashley shook her head, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She was saving them all. That was the only thing that mattered: save her mother and rescue the Sanctuary network she’d been forced to try to take down. Her mother would know what she was doing; she knew that much. Turning back to the girl whose arm was in her grasp, Ashley wasted no more time.

She teleported.

And promptly woke up in a room she’d never seen before. Without the other girl. Ashley scrambled up, her instincts taking over as she looked around warily for anything, any sign of where she was, what this room was, and who might have brought her here. There was a small device on the table, but she didn’t quite trust it or the room enough to walk over to pick it up. Her body ached, presumably from the teleportation attempt. She’d felt the shield ripping her body apart, yet… here she was. Why was she here? She didn’t know.

Tearstains were caked on her face. She knew they were visible, but she no longer cared. The fact that she’d been crying moments before this wasn’t important. What was important was her mother – and the Sanctuary’s – safety.

“Okay, Cabal, if you’re responsible for this, get me the hell out of here. And my mother better be safe.” Or there would be consequences. She was not going to let them drug and control her a second time. She’d rather die. “I’m serious. I will find you if you’ve hurt her.” More than they already had, anyway.

A muscle in her jaw tightened with barely controlled rage. Maybe it was a product of being her father’s daughter, but at this point she didn’t care. She’d take that rage and channel it properly if it would prevent the Cabal from hurting her mother.

“Seriously, this is not cool.”

Ashley eventually stepped down off the platform she was on and began to look around the room. She ignored the phone-like device on the table for the moment, but once she’d examined every inch of the room to no avail, she walked up to the device and looked it over. She still refused to pick it up – for all she knew, it could be a touch-activated bomb or something – but she did address it.

“Dana? I’m waiting. You don’t want to keep me waiting.”

hisbeth

[Beth is in a sharp, gray tailored suit jacket and her hair is down and curled, framing her face. She looks directly into the camera with an obvious no nonsense air about her. She speaks at a slower than average pace with a calm and clear voice. In short, she has her game face on. She's being the reporter, but there's an underlying tone. Almost anxious. Worried. She doesn't just want to receive this information, she needs to.]

Hi, I'm Beth Turner. Many of you I have already met in person or through Taxon's network, but some of you are still new to me. So I just wanted to introduce myself. I also wanted to ask all of you for a favor. I've done my best to keep track of everyone who has shown up in Taxon since my own arrival, but I'm sure some people have fallen through the cracks.

That being said, I was wondering if any of you have met or conversed with a particular new arrival. She would've arrived around Christmas, and...

[Beth hesitates before forcing herself to continue on.]

She'll answer to the name Coraline.

And she's dangerous.

killtheparty

When Party flicks on the visual he's somewhere--it looks like a cafe of some kind--and he's glancing suspiciously at everyone, looking more than a little jumpy.

"They're actually hamsters," He points out, before deflating altogether--his already slouched posture sags, his sigh comes across more tired than defeated, and he pauses. But just like that he's composed himself again, scratching his hair. The barista Extra hands him something--it looks like an all-too sugary coffee drink--and Party waves her off. He's been drinking and eating a lot more thanks to a certain curly haired thief and a cowboy cop, after all.

"They pop up often, fellow prisoners?"

[PRIVATE-TEXT-GWEN RAIDEN]
Did you listen to it?

secretshame

Today Jenna can be found camped out on her couch, pretty much sprawled across it while she's flipping through her tablet. She is bored. Very bored. Which is why she's making this post.

"Okay, Taxon. I have a poll.

1) Favorite types of wine.
2) Favorite ways of distracting yourself.

Go."

What, with everything going on and people seeing ghosts and things that weren't real, she needed the distraction and cleaning out her brother-in-law's family boxes wasn't cutting it anymore.

slayersidekick

Willow awoke with a start. She could feel the tears on her cheeks - whether they were tears of pain or relief, she wasn't sure - and she had already wiped at her eyes before she noticed that she'd forgotten to turn the lights off when she fell asleep. Oh well, too late now. What she had yet to take note of was the flashing light that meant her tablet had turned itself off.

She was also bypassing the big, bloody patch on her stomach where she was missing skin.

Or at least, she noticed it when she tried to move from the bed - being on top of the covers had its advantages sometimes. The amount of pain she was suffering caused her to wince and glance down at her stomach.

"Oh... that..."

Wait a minute. This wasn't her room at Buffy's. Her new one or the old one. It wasn't her house or the dorms, either. That could only mean one thing: it was the castle at Taxon. And she was in the room she'd been sharing with Tara. Or had at one point.

Tears flooded her eyes, spilling forth at the memories, as everything she'd done, both in Taxon and in Sunnydale, came soaring back to her. Trying to hold in her sobs just made her injury hurt worse, so after a while it was hard to tell what she was crying about: the emotional trauma or the physical pain. Eventually, she did try to stand up and so the tablet got a full view of the nice bloody patch, a perfect rectangle across her stomach. She held an arm to it, finally noticing the tablet. Well... it would be easier to call for Buffy this way. And maybe a doctor, much as she doesn't want to do it.

"Buffy? I-I think I need a doctor..."

taxcollectors

"Hello citizens! Hellooo!"

It had been some time since that cheery greeting had first rung out across the tablets but there it was once again, accompanying a holographic broadcast from the arrival room. The platform was occupied by two hamsters of unusual size, the first with short tawny fur and the second with long white fur. Both were waving their little paws.

"Long time, no chat," the tawny one pronounced and scratched at its ear. "Sorry about that, we've been awfully absentee."

"Yes, it is most unfortunate," the white one agreed. "But we've been quite busy, and still are! Holiday rush and pinched budgets, you know how it is."

"They do, they do! Happy new year, belatedly! Though it's still early for Mr. Long, isn't it?"

The second hamster nodded. "Oh, yes, a little early yet. The point is we have a teensy bit of time now."

"Just a little, just enough to answer a few questions and take a few comments." The first hamster waved its paw. "But then it's back to work, so make it quick!"

longaevus

[ Helen had checked the tablet before leaving, making certain that Jenna was in and available before leaving. Her offer had been a kind one, one that Helen had been a little tempted to take her up on at that moment. And she would have done had her mind not been a little confused.

Confused wasn't quite the word for it, however. Mixed, maybe. The events of both Taxon and the Sanctuary were real, that she knew, but it was the case of differentiating between them, and then knowing where things lay. Did things even chance because of it? Helen hoped that they wouldn't have to - her friendships were good and she certainly didn't want that to change.

She'd gotten a bottle of wine from the cellar before leaving - a good bottle. Jenna may have had her own but it was a small offer, and a thank you for all that Jenna had done and what Helen was certain that she would do now; Jenna was a good friend, a good woman. Someone that was becoming dear to her.

She gave a light knock at the door, moving the bag that had the bottle in it away from her a little. Her ribs still stung (more than stung) but they were better. And she would be glad for whatever distraction Jenna gave, as well as her company ]

longaevus

Will?

[ She pushed herself up, or at least tried to; she was moving quicker than her body wanted to allow. She hissed as the pain pushed up through her, trying to think as she pushed herself up slower this time.

Will. SCUI.

Cave in. Except where she was certainly didn't feel like a cave floor. She hadn't been unconscious so there was no chance that she could have been brought back to the Sanctuary without knowing. That only left one option ]

Taxon? Bloody hell. [ Whatever had happened to her, the pain that she was holding back was evident in her voice.

She flicked her bedside light on, hand pressed to her right ribs as she slowly stood up to look outside, to make certain. Martha had mentioned that she'd gone home once but no time had passed here. The last thing she remembered from Taxon was the New Year's Eve Celebrations. She'd check the date later but... it had been over a century. Reaching the window Helen used her free hand to push the curtain aside. It was Taxon, and it hadn't changed ]

Oh... damn.

[ ooc; canon bump a goooo | until she turns the light on you can't see a thing ]

freaks-myword.livejournal.com

The tablet turns on before things get weird, so Taxon gets a quick upshot glance at the bare midriff exposed at Gwen's hip, underneath her heavy pea coat. There's some shuffling, so it's clear she's on the move. And then all movement stops.

Gwen hears a voice, smooth and low...and barely perceptible. But it's there, like a whisper coming from somewhere in the crowded sea of strolling pedestrians, like an old, muffled record being played in another room:

"I'm thinkin' James Bond never looked this fine."

It stops her right the hell in her tracks. "Denzel?" she calls out, low, and getting no answer. Blue eyes frantically scan the crowd for his face--vampire or not. "Charles?" She can feel her heart racing in her chest and she looks around fully now, wary. Nothing. Just people milling about, shopping bags in hand, chatting and laughing and wandering, with no sign of that dark handsome face among them. She thinks maybe she's going crazy...but that's a lot of crazy, if that's the case. One hand comes to rest on the other, a movement away from removing her glove, and then--

"Ah, ah, ah...Keep your mittens on, Sparky."

This is louder, and most definitely the voice of Charles Gunn. Gwen physically turns around to survey the area, backing herself into a corner against a wall so she can get a look at the scene without being in the middle of it--the perfect place to be on her guard. And still...there's nothing. No human Gunn. No vampire Gunn. After a moment, she rips that tablet off her hip and with unsurprised frustration...sees that it's already broadcasting. Great. Well, now that the line's already open...

Still, though she regains some composure, Taxon has never before seen her so rattled. "Am I going crazy or is there...some serious Twilight Zone going on here?"

longaevus

She'd lost many people over the years; many friends, lovers. And family. She'd stopped allowing herself to get close to people long ago. After Ashley had died that distance had only increased.

It had been over a year since she'd lost her. A year that Helen had spent trying to move on. Trying to bury her pain.

A year that she now felt that she'd failed in. Taxon had brought her back... That wasn't true. Taxon had given her Ashley's ghost. The sight of her, although brief, brought to the surface everything that she'd fought. The Sanctuary reminded Helen of her already - the home that she'd made, the life that Ashley had brought to it. It was that reason that found Helen in the shooting range. Helen had taught Ashley a lot there, as much as she'd at first hated doing so but Ashley had been persistent. She'd inherited her stubbornness. The shooting range had been somewhere that Ashley came to unwind, or simply to refine her skills. And seeing her here after she'd entered, after shooting herself had seemed a little natural. Except it didn't help. Not like it had in the past. Not like it did for Ashley.

aintnoconvict

"Hey everyone. Um. I don't know if it's just me or if there's a Thing but I think dreams may be coming true in really inconvenient ways. You might wanna try not sleeping, if at all possible, or have someone keep an eye on you if you do or something. And...yeah, I'm gonna need some help here."

Here was a roughly four-foot by four-foot space at the bottom of a deep hole. Glitch peered up at the crack of feeble daylight high above and rubbed his hands together, shivering. He must have been napping on the couch at the workshop since he was dressed in trousers and a button-down shirt instead of pajamas, but he could really do with a coat. And socks, and a scarf, and gloves and...

And a hat. He frowned and felt around in the dust - no, it smelt burnt so probably ashes - that covered the bottom of the pit until he encountered something solid. Familiar. Hat-like.

"Oh," Glitch said softly, and found himself wondering what that meant.

ooc: tada! there is a rescue plan in place, but feel free to hit him up on the tablet.

troublescleaner.livejournal.com

There's some crazy stuff going on. Hell, he was a lion. Seeing Lizzy, that's not really a new thing. It's painful, and it hurts, but Dwight's used to it. He's also used to getting things out the only way he knows how, and since there's no Troubles in Taxon (save for himself, of course), he's reached the only conclusion when it comes to him keeping a calm mind. Seclusion, a stuff drink (whiskey, courtesy of Helen), and the thought of doing something familiar.

He's switched the tablet on mid-drink and then lowers the glass, offering a familiar not-quite-smile as he sets the tumbler down and rubs at his chin, the scrape of hair audible.

"Any idea of winter hunting season permits, or anything of the like?" He asks. He's in a guest room of Old City Sanctuary, blonde hair pushed out of his face. "By that same vein--if I do grab anything, I'm not gonna be able to eat it all. Anyone want any?" It's a stupid offer--meat when you can just hatch it--and he shrugs.

"I make a mean venison stew, anyway." Right now he's just trying to come to terms with the fact that he was turned into a lion. Carry on, Taxon.

brokenoptimism

" - Have to learn to keep it under... control." Charles let his train of thought taper off with the startling realization that he was quite suddenly alone. Not only alone, but very much not where he had been just seconds before. His brows knit together, eyes sweeping around the metallic chamber, instantly on guard. His expression set into a slightly crooked frown when his eyes finally caught sight of the alien looking machine above him. How had they found him so quickly? They had been careful to keep attention away from them. He had shielded their appearance and made certain to avoid anyone who even let a passing thought of the CIA wander through their minds. Cold blue eyes sought out any form of camera, settling for the device above him as he tipped his head up, not making a move from the platform. If they expected him to scamper around like a frightened mouse they were going to be disappointed.

"Clever. I suppose you are learning from your mistakes after all, though obviously not well enough if you believe you can hold me here for long. Do you really need a second demonstration?" He held the false confidence in his voice, hiding the fear that was building in his chest to the best of his abilities. Not again. He could only hope the others had escaped. "Is this how things are going to work this time? A room with no doors? You think keeping people out of here will keep me from getting out? Someone will have to come in, eventually." He did not want a repeat of the last escape. His conscience could not handle it. A weary tone fell into his voice when he spoke again.

"Why are you doing this? What could you possibly hope to gain that you did not from the last time you held us? It isn't necessary. We should be working together, not against one another. Our differences do not need to make us your enemies." He swallowed the apprehension, stepping down from the platform carefully. A curious eye turned briefly toward the pedestal before he was back to studying the walls and the strange device hanging from the ceiling. After a moment he reached toward the device, freezing at the sight of the bracelet on his wrist. "...What?" His brows knit together again, studying the strange bracelet on his wrist. Was this some new form of their mind games? He ran his fingers over it, distress level rising at the way it was fused to his skin. Metallic room... metallic device... metal bracelet. His voice dropped to little more than a confused whisper, barely even audible over his breathing.

"Erik?"

secretshame

For Jenna, things had recently been pretty normal as far as Taxon goes. Gain people, lose double. Lose one, gain none. She was starting to learn the ins and outs of the city and hated what she'd come to notice.

She'd woken up a few days ago to find them both gone. Now it was just her... and probably Katherine, if the vampire ever decided to show her face again. Selfishly, Jenna hoped that Katherine had gone back, too. At least Stefan and Damon could protect Elena... and Caroline could help. Better than Jenna herself ever had, that was for sure.

The first thing the tablets really picked up was the crash of a bottle sliding out of Jenna's hand and hitting the floor. She could have sworn she'd just seen Elena... getting snacked on by some vampire in firelight, but no... that couldn't be. It wasn't possible. And whatever she'd seen - or thought she had seen - was gone. Jenna didn't even bother to pick up the glass, not noticing as her tablet, sitting on top of the kitchen counter, clicked on to show her tear-stained face staring at something far behind her tablet's screen.

"...Elena?"

Eventually, Jenna wiped at her eyes and looked down at the floor. Her eyes still didn't catch the tablet. She was pretty much ignoring it for now. And finally, she knelt down, out of sight of the tablet feed, to start picking up the broken glass and mopping the floor. What a waste of a good bottle of wine.

poisonousparty.livejournal.com

The visual flickers to Party, curled up in the back of his car, looking a cross between very confused, very embarrassed, and maybe a little scared. That's what you get when you push a witch into an oven, but he's not quite sure how to put that one in to words. He's used to killing people, but right now he's not exactly in Taxon's good books, never mind the fact that Mick sent a text and something tells him he should be sorrier than he actually feels about Drusilla.

"Uuuh..."

Yeah, that's a genius way to start. He clears his throat and tries again.

"So that glitch was a little low on the entertainment factor. With the killin' and the thees and thous."

Just don't mention you saw Gwen naked. Actually, don't mention Gwen at all. That's just a big no no.

"Fuck the aliens. Picking flowers is not my thing, thanks." And, in an odd tone: "Does everyone that die get put back together?"