taxonomites | Entries tagged with { jayne cobb

eventextras.livejournal.com

At around noon, the silence was broken. The Extras resumed their idle nonsense chatter, and any citizen checking their tablet would note that voice and video transmission are available again. After a little experimentation they will also realize they have their voices back.

Sort of.

Citizens who know multiple languages will now find themselves speaking their non-English tongue(s), and will only be able to break from this with excessive concentration. Downside: still lots of charades going on. Upside: many people will learn to swear in a more multilingual manner.

In three days' time the programming bugs will get worked out and everyone will have full control over their language use. In the meantime, enjoy the renewed vocalization!

[ooc: phase two of the glitch begins now! ]

mercenaryacare.livejournal.com

我恨这个该死的地方。他们付出了我们的声音。下一步是什么？我们的球吗？

请不要说，他们可能把我们的球。我还不如自己的头部开枪，如果说到了这一点。

[translation: I hate this goddamn place. They done took our voices. What's next? Our balls?

Please don't say they might take our balls. I may as well shoot myself in the head if it comes to that.]

[ooc: If your browser can't display the Chinese characters, I'll have him switch to English.]

rereremembered.livejournal.com

It wasn't like there was a shortage of bars in Taxon, it was just that a vast majority of them lacked a certain something. Atmosphere. Style. A staff not consisting of Extras.

So Fitz took it upon himself to once again open a pub. He figured he had the qualifications (enjoying beer and music) and experience from working at such lofty venues as the Mother Black Cap, that one bar on Yquatine, and the New Found Out the first time he was in the city, so striking out on his own was fairly simple. In April Fitz had found a generic pub-like building in Shelley (across the road from a ziggurat and next to a futuristic boutique specializing in neon jumpsuits), and after a period of decorating, stocking supplies, and waiting out vampire shenanigans it was ready.

"If anyone's interested in drinking somewhere not run by creepy soulless puppets, I'm happy to inform you that as of this evening the Dodgy Jammer will be open for business." And he grinned, clearly pleased with the name. "Presently serving a limited selection of beers and whiskeys, and fare of...well, chips, but certainly looking to expand on that if we've any spare chefs about. I'd also like to host musicians but in the meantime, tonight and every Friday is going to be karaoke night. I can't move the bloody machine, so we may as well use it. Come on out, it should be good for a laugh."

And in order to ensure there were plenty of laughs, one of the early arrivals happened to be a certain alien disguised as none other than a certain Fonz. He approached the karaoke machine, gave it a punch which imbued it with certain inhibition-lowering properties, then sauntered off with a thumbs-up and an "Ehhhh!"

ooc: Karaoke shenanigans get! Treat this like a party post with threadjacking and mingling and all that good stuff. As mentioned, this event is dated to after the end of Dawn's vampire glitch.

biverbam.livejournal.com

River hasn't been sleeping, not well, not since Dawn, and when the tablet clicks on from its place amidst a haphazard pile of flowers to show Serenity's cargo bay.

Every few seconds she walks across the frame (step step heel turn step heel turn step turn step step step). She's holding her necklaces (one a cross, the other a locket of vervain) taut enough to dig in at the back of her neck but not hard enough to break, and if she'd hold still one might notice some impressive bags under her eyes.

It's been days. Multiples. She can see them stretching out in front of her nose, a snake of exponential progression winding into a giant coiled ball, growing and growing until mass present exceeds the limits of volume and everything breaks. Maybe that's how they'll get out, eventually. The city will be too full of snake-days and their husky skins to let the barriers stay in place...

River snorts an unamused little laugh as she turns back around. "That's not likely. Adjustments... It's thoroughly biodegradable husk."

A beat passes and she stops, heel on the ground and toes in the air ready to make another step. Any second now.

"Smells like a graveyard," is her only irritated observation before she's off again.

(Step step heel t urn step heel turn step turn step step step.)

lajolieblonde.livejournal.com

[ sookie has decided to eschew emotional honesty for the moment-- after the weekend with bill and angel's scarcity of late, it just seems easier that way-- and after scrubbing the whole house top to bottom more than once, she set to work cooking.

and cooking.

...and then more cooking.

when her tablet clicks on, it's to a view of a counter covered in various types of pie, fried chicken behind it. (there may also be biscuits.) normally, she'd just call jason and tell him she's making sure he doesn't starve since lord knows he can't boil water to save his life, but as they are In A Fight feeding him is not an option at the moment.

but she can't eat it all, so after a moment she sets down her cup of coffee and picks up her tablet. after a little sigh she waves, pressing her lips together sheepishly. ]

I know we're all a little spread out here, but I don't suppose I could find someone to take a few pies off my hands? I... well, I might've gone a little overboard when I was making them. [ beat. ] I have chicken, too, if y'all want any. And biscuits. I'd just really appreciate gettin' some help clearin' off my counters.

aintnoconvict

When the haphazardly tossed tablet skittered across the work table and clicked on, it broadcast a scene of Invention In Progress:

Glitch was staring at an illuminated lightbulb and listening to the soft hum of the generator prototype he was working on. All appeared stable and he scooted forward in his chair, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Then the steady hum wavered, became a whine, dropped to a growl, then cut out completely as the lightbulb flickered and extinguished. With a sigh of frustration Glitch sat back and clicked his stopwatch off.

"Two minutes, nineteen seconds. Good effort but...harmonic alignment seven has-" Oh he hated to call anything a failure. "...done its best and and would be excellent if we need to power anything for a little over two minutes."

Satisfied with that assessment, he nodded jerkily to himself and logged the results in the project's file.

painsinger.livejournal.com

"This shouldn't be happening! It can't be happening!" Stefen hadn't intended to speak out loud, but the frustration and the fear obvious in his voice had, it seemed, other plans aside from stunned silence. Maybe not stunned, if the look of resigned terror on his face said anything--like someone watching their worst nightmare come to life, only they had been expecting it. Nothing was ever simple, and the half of him that was still a child wanted to complain about how unfair this all was, while the half that was more what he should have been--the half that was Master Bard Stefen, performer to the King-- knew that it wouldn't have changed anything if he did.

"Well-guarded, indeed. One moment in Haven, the next here..." Not that he hadn't heard of stranger things happening from the Heralds and with his particularly strong ties to both King Randale and Herald-Mage Vanyel, he was a particularly prime target.

Vanyel.

Oh gods. He had been right. If they knew who he was, it was only a matter of time before the worst happened and if they didn't know how important he was to either, it was only a matter of time before they found out and...

"V-Van...?" But he wasn't really expecting an answer. This place looked too alien, even for the kind of "company" that Van tended to keep. And if the Herald wasn't here, then there was only one real option left--Stefen was being used as leverage. Abducted by some invisible force with some phantom goal in mind. Vanyel had enough enemies that there was no telling what any of them wanted.

It wasn't until he reached up to run a hand through his fiery red hair that he realized that he was still clutching an instrument against his slight body. That added a whole other level of confusing to the situation. This looked enough like a strange prison, so...why was he permitted an instrument? And his favorite, no less.

"R-Rosewood? What are you doing here?" He held her a little more gently against his chest, but she was a small comfort in the face of abduction.

Calm down, Stef. You've had training. Nothing is wrong with Vanyel or you'd know. He closed his green eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. He was supposed to be attached to the palace, not dealing with magic or prisons or any of...well, this.

Someone has to be looking for me. Let's face it, at this point I'm too important for someone not to have noticed that I've vanished. But that would only make them--whoever "them" were--try even harder to hide him. After a few moments of silent internal struggle, an oath that would not have been very welcome at Court all but exploded from him and the look on his face turned into a mixture of frustration and rage. There wasn't anything that he was capable of doing to get himself out of this--all he could do was wait to be found.

And that was precisely what he set out to do, dropping to sit on the floor and sulk (even if he would never have called it that) very much like the child that he had barely outgrown.

"Havens..."

eggplantgout.livejournal.com

Jason Stackhouse had never been to college unless one counted a semester at tech school a university experience. He had however, watched plenty of movies that (many of them inaccurate) depicted college. This party was a new experience for Jason and he was damn well going to get it right.

The party would take place outside on the lawn in front of Jason and Loki’s house. Along one side of the yard was a row of tables filled with the promised plastic cups, pizza, and various junk food. (Including an assortment of random candies that Loki helpfully provided.) As long as they were free that month, the table also provided margaritas on the rocks in the event a party goer did not want to partake of the kegs on either side of the table row.

There is a banner hanging across the front of the house saying WELCOME, LOKI! and piñatas dangle intermittently on tree branches across the yard. One in particular is a skull, and while Jason thinks it’s cool, in hindsight he wonders if it will scare anyone off. Music that sounds much like early-mid 90’s Earth hip hop booms across the party, inviting guests to dance. As he waits for the guests, Jason begins to drink. There was nothing wrong with a little pregaming. And of course, he's wearing a toga.

aintnoconvict

Behold, Taxon, possibly the most ridiculous thing ever seen on the tablets: Glitch, bathed in the intense gleam of a rainbow, standing beside a pot of gold.

"Look what I found!" he said, all excitement and grinning and pointing. "It just...behind the shop, there's this rainbow and it looks like it goes--" He gestured in an arc to indicate some great distance across the sky. "B-but here at the end there's gold."

Then Glitch remembered he was in the city of horrors and frowned, giving the pot of gold a skeptical look. "Okay, so...what does it mean?"

ooc - yes, crack. also here be aliens.

smecker.livejournal.com

It wasn't until near noon on St. Patrick's Day (or what passed for it) that Paul actually spoke words to anyone-- he'd been hunkered down in his clock-shop-home, per his words to Dawn about not intending to do anything stupid, and as such hadn't been talking to anyone, just working on sketched plans and lists for how he intended to refurbish the rookery.

At lunch though, he'd decided to make a quick run to the store for the things he couldn't hatch. As usual, he had no intention of paying the Extra for them-- he simply took the supplies he'd wanted, put them into a bag, and started out the store.

As was also usual, the Extra cashier started to politely ask him about paying.

And, as was also usual, Paul said back over his shoulder, "Bite me, you sorry little robot."

....except that what came out his mouth was more like... "Ah, feck off, I'm only after takin' what's needed."

Paul stopped in his tracks. For one disconcerting second, he was sure either Connor or Murphy were somewhere in the store, and he spun around, looking for them.

But no. He had said that. He had said that.

"...did I myself go sayin' that, now?-- oh feck-- oh bloody shite--"

There was a silence for about fifteen seconds that somehow managed to be supremely angry.

Then Paul punched on his tablet-- realized it was already on-- of fucking course-- and snapped, "Does anyone else be sayin' this blarney, or have the 'amsters only arsed up me own gob?"

OOC: Paul's been glitched to speak in an Irish accent today (an over-the-top, stereotypical Irish accent at that). Taunt away.

mercenaryacare.livejournal.com

There are various noises coming a short distance away from the microphone, including chatter, chairs being pulled out, music, and the sound of liquid filling a glass. A gruff voice, much closer to the tablet says, "Gimme another." Then a pause. "They're still free, right?"

"Oh, yes sir!" a cheery Extra's voice answers. "All month."

"Make it a double then."

Jayne sets his elbows on the bar and puts his head in his hands. He had settled well enough into Taxon, and had even seen it as a possibly good thing. No Mal to boss him around. No Zoe to carry out Mal's stupid orders. No Doc being pompous. And getting a monthly allowance for doing nothing more than breathing... Taxon just needed a whorehouse to be the ideal place.

But then the zombies had come. Luckily he had avoided being chomped on, but it was a hell of an ordeal, and now he knew what Kaylee had meant when she had first explained the downside of the place to him.

Another downside had occurred to him recently. Jayne had always been a greedy man. But while part of that was simple selfishness on his part, his lust for money wasn't all about buying shiny things for himself. Half of his cut from jobs had always been sent home to help his family. His Pa was too old to work now and Mattie was always in poor health and needed medicine. His Ma always sent him letters praising him for the money he'd sent, but what about now? Did time really stand still outside this place? What if it didn't? What if Ma and Pa and Mattie were waiting for that money from him? Getting 350 credits a month was great, but what was the use of it if it couldn't be sent out?

"Here you are, sir!" There was the sound of the glass being set on the bar, but a moment later there was a loud BANG as the glass was slammed back down after a long gulp.

"What the hell's the point of all this?"

"Sir?"

"I mean, what d'these here aliens get outta this? They gotta feed us, pump air in here, give us water, all that gou shi*. Why the hell they botherin'? Are they really gettin' entertained watchin' us sit around all day, bein' ruttin' bored as hell? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm likin' the rest, when we ain't gettin' chased by zombies that is, but this place gets borin' fast, don't it?"

"I uh, I don't..."

"Aw, hell, why I askin' you? Y'ain't even real. Get outta here."

The sound of feet hurrying away was practically drowned out by Jayne's heavy sigh.

[gou shi = crap]

[ooc: I just realized, this should be forward dated to after the Angelus event, so people aren't still in hiding, lol.]

biverbam.livejournal.com

When the tablet clicks on, River is sitting cross legged and cross armed on Serenity's dining table.

She is staring at a cake. Pretty one, too, just three modest tiers of purple with blue hibiscus flowers made of sugar. It's almost like the aliens are trying to compensate for something! From the expression on River's face, however, this is the most disturbing confection in the history of all human existence.

"There isn't a reliable measurement for time," she tells the tablet. "Seasonal markers are arbitrary. Manufactured. Without a solid point of reference it all slides out of place-- Places." Agitation is winning out and she fidgets with a loose string at her elbow. "The appearance of punctuality can't be trusted." It is possible there are some Issues behind that statement other than turning nineteen, but she's not voicing them today.

None of this stops her from picking off a flower and nibbling on a sugary blue petal, though.

"I don't want it."

Get your free cake, Taxon! Hurry, before she peels all the fondant off.

[ ooc: PRETEND THIS IS FRIDAY backdating forever yay. \o/ ]

mercenaryacare.livejournal.com

The tablet turns on to show a blurry hand, then the hand draws back and one would be able to see a large, muscular man sitting at the kitchen table of the Frye ranch house, a multitude of guns spread out before him. Also in front of him is a soft cloth, several cleaning brushes in various sizes, cloth patches, and bottles of solvent. One gun has already been disassembled and is right in front of him.

"With all the decomposin' nightmares walkin' around this here place, my guns got a nice workout. I'm wonderin' how many of ya used guns against 'em, instead of just sticks and pipes."

He picks up a bottle of solvent and saturates a cloth patch. "Hell, I'll use whatever's handy, but there ain't nothin' like blowin' out zombie brains with one of these lil' darlin's." Plus killing at a distance means no muss, no fuss, and for a man who is always stuck with the cleaning up, that's a good thing.

As he starts on the gun barrel, he doesn't say anything, just cleans away and moves on to other parts of the handgun in front of himself. For someone with such large hands and fingers, he treats each piece delicately and with care. After all, his guns could be the only things between him and certain death, so they are some of the only things he treats with respect.

He also seems to have forgotten to turn off his tablet. It's only when he finishes with his gun and puts it back together in several fluid movements that he catches sight of it out of the corner of his eye.

"Gorramit," he mutters under his breath. A hand comes toward the camera. "Never gonna get the hang of this piece of--" The video cuts out as he turns it off.

biverbam.livejournal.com

The gates had held for almost a full day before a panicking infected Extra tried to get out. By the time River gets her tablet and puts it on visual, everything is dark. The only thing that can be seen in the emergency backup lights of the gift shop is her lower jaw dotted with dried blood (not hers, for the most part) as she whispers as loudly as she dares right into the microphone.

"All of them listen. They-- Shhh."

Outside a lion roars and is quiet and River presses the tablet against her stomach to scurry over to the opposite side of the shop. Away from noise, away from detection.

"Need a clear path. Between the smaller bones."

[ WARNING for general violent zombie mayhem, with additional possibility for descriptions of zombie cruelty to animals. (don't worry; the unicorn lives.) ]

gotcouplings.livejournal.com

Since the first few posts on the network, Kaylee has been slowly making just-in-case preparations: securing the parts of the drill, stocking up on provisions, double-checking that Serenity is in fine working order--everything she's learned to do during her time with Mal. The lovely system failure was a clear case of You Can't Be Too Careful, and there's no way she's about to be surprised again.

After checking her surroundings, she quietly leaves the ranch house and heads for the ship. Just have to send a quick blip to River and she'll be set to go pick her up and move. Kaylee pulls her tablet out as she heads up Serenity's ramp, absently hitting the buttons on the panel to close the cargo bay up as she starts the feed.

"River, mei mei, gonna come get you at the zoo, alright? Stay safe 'til I get there. And Jayne, mind checkin' in--"

A loud stuttering clunk halts her, and she steps forward to peer curiously back at the door and investigate whatever is jamming the gears. It's a fortunate turn--just as she spins around, an Extra, bloody and drooling, lunges at her. Kaylee twists out of the way and scrambles for the stairs, catching just enough of a glimpse of the bay doors to see another body stuck fast in the gears, and a third Extra clambering up over the top of the ramp.

The tablet catches glimpses of stairs and zombie flesh as Kaylee makes her way up toward the mess hall. In the distance, the dull thud of a body toppling over the ramp can be heard as the mechanic rounds the corner for the next set of stairs. There's an awkward fumbling to shove the kitchen's door closed before Kaylee finally leans back against the wall to catch her breath--

--and promptly screams and drops her tablet as another Extra lunges at her from behind the table. The tablet's screen cracks and goes black as it hits the ground, and for a time only the sound of the scuffle can be heard before another screech of metal cuts them off. The dining room remains silent.

On top of Serenity, the mechanic grimaces at the tips of the Extra's fingers that had been caught in the hatch as she had slammed it closed. A quick glance over the side of the ship shows a few other Extras slowly gathering around the ship. Kaylee sighs, dragging her knees up to her chest. Stuck on top of a ship with no way of contacting the others.

"Shiny," she mutters.

timedaughter

"Tell me I'm not the only one seeing this," is the first thing Jenny says when she pops up on the screens of the tablets in Taxon. Then the view pans from her frowning face to a horde of shambling Extras, many of whom are stumbling around Jenny's shuttle. Somewhere in the background there's a faint scream, and a little cloud of black smoke drifting into view from off to the right.

A groaning, gurgling sound cuts over the rest of the din, louder because it's closer.

"Crap, hang on." Sounding more exasperated than worried, Jenny drops the tablet and it lands facing up, giving a fantastic grounds-eye view of Jenny and the zombie that's managed to sneak up close as she was distracted. With a deadly, precise, but almost casual ease, she swings a long piece of wood at the zombie's head, hitting a soft spot and caving in the side of its skull. It drops, lifeless.

Snatching her tablet back up, she once more frowns at the screen. "I think I'm going to need a gun."

mercenaryacare.livejournal.com

One minute he was stomping down the ramp of Serenity carrying Vera, his Callahan gun, ready to do a little target practice, and the next, Jayne Cobb found himself in a small room, stumbling down the stairs from a raised platform, just managing to keep his feet.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, looking around with wide eyes and quickly lifting Vera at the ready. He was in some sort of eerie ass room, all cold metal with some weird thing on the ceiling above the platform. He squinted up at it and decided he didn't want to stand underneath it.

"Hey! Anyone out there?" he shouted, his loud voice echoing off the walls. He swore in Mandarin under his breath and looked around again. There was a podium with some sort of device on it. Curious, he moved closer, but not too close. He couldn't be too careful, after all. Upon examining it with his eyes, he figured it was some sort of viewing device, the kind you could watch movies on, but he wasn't completely sure on that. For all he knew it was a fancy sort of Alliance grenade. Oh hell, had the Alliance snatched him? Well, he was humped. No way he'd make it out of their prison or wherever the hell he was. He gripped Vera tighter, not willing to go down without a fight. That was probably why they weren't rushing in after him yet. Maybe they were pumping the room full of gas, or hell, just cutting off the oxygen. Rutting cowards.

"Anybody gonna tell me where the hell I am, 'er why?" he asked the air. Maybe he shouldn't waste the air though, if it was going to run out. He held his breath for a moment, but took that time to examine the door. No handle. He stepped up to it. Nothing happened. He'd figured as much.

Stepping back, he let out the held breath. "Boy, it sure would be a shame if I were ta blast a buncha holes through this nice ol' door 'a yours, huh? It's real shiny an' probably cost ya a mess 'a credits ta install." He took a couple more steps back, not wanting to get hit with shrapnel once he started firing. Which he would, if he didn't get some answers quick.

"Guess none 'a ya are gonna come open this door fer me, then. No welcome committee? Hell, that ain't any way ta treat a guest, is it?" He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, though on the inside, he was pretty on edge. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this mess. Maybe Mal and the rest would come and rescue him. It could happen. Maybe, possibly. Well, hell, it wasn't like he was looking to betray Mal for better money anymore, and the Captain knew that. He'd come.

Eventually.

Jayne sucked in a breath and squared his shoulders, muttering "Gorramit," under his breath as he took aim at the doors.

taxcollectors.livejournal.com

All throughout the day, tablets across Taxon will be ringing. The chime is simple, a four part melody that's pleasing to the ear and completely unique compared to any other signal the tablets have sounded. Just a simple little ditty, effortless and pretty. The tablet's screen reads thusly, with font a bright and calming blue:

--VOICE COMMUNICATION--

;4JA7097<DPBQ:&;FDP8D:.@91uRH<.5=DN85<,@A9EB@Ls

THANK YOU!

Pick up, it seems to say, all cheery colors and bright ring. It's time we had a chat, and that feeling is eerily familiar to the niggling in the back of one's mind when they just know it's an old friend on the other end of the line that they've been missing lately.

Pick up, citizens. Your keepers are calling.

[ooc: So begins part two! Posts like this will also be up tomorrow and Friday. All communication from the aliens will be [voice], and characters will get either a male or female sounding alien asking them questions when they tag in. Feel free to have them ask questions back to the aliens, as well. Have fun!]

myveryownriot.livejournal.com

There's a great deal of static, interspersed with the sound of swearing and then a precariously tilted look at a wall and the edge of a bunk, before the image finally rights itself and clears to reveal Jayne's way-to-close-to-the-screen face.

"Testing, testing."

Once he seems satisfied it's working (though how he knows is anybody's guess), he backs up slightly and peers very seriously at the tablet, like he's got something real important to say, and wants to be sure it doesn't get lost to a malfunctioning machine.

"Uh, so. Where's the whores?"

myveryownriot.livejournal.com

"OW! Bèn tiānshēng de yìduī ròu. Ain't met a doctor yet didn't get into it for th' pain-causin' part." Jayne's grumbling's precedes his entrance into view, shoved along by an exasperated looking Simon. He'd head for that stupid chair where the doc does all his torturing, but...it looks to have disappeared. "Wha...?"

"Trust me, Jayne, there isn't a single thing that involves you I can take pleasure in." If it weren't for the fact that Simon's not entirely sure his patient's t shirt might actually carry new and exotic strains of bacteria, he'd physically propel him into the infirmary. "And if you'd rather I just leave you to it, gangrene is only highly possible. Not inevitable."

Jayne's not listening anymore, Simon, so you can prattle on about your green gangs all you want, there's more interesting things than you here. (Not like that's different from every other day, though.)

"Where- I knew it! I told 'em, but don't no one listen to Jayne Cobb, he ain't smart 'nough to know Alliance when he sees 'em standin' 'round with their shiny rooms an' their fancy doctor manners."

Simon has to measure his words carefully, here. "You betrayed us to the Alliance, in case you've forgotten. And was the reward for myself and River a clever ruse to gain the trust of a few smugglers we weren't even likely to meet?"

However, the sincere lack of anything resembling Serenity is disturbing. "Where are we?"

"Aw, zāogāo- ain't nobody ever gonna forget that." Though Jayne can't rightly promise he wouldn't do it again. Which he sure as hell would, 'cause look where they are now!

And ain't that a first, him noticing things before old Smarty-Britches. "I reckon you can answer that, seein' as you're the one brought me here! P'robly gonna...cut out my insides an' study 'em or somethin', watch we twitch...how come my arm ain't hurtin' no more?"

"One does tend to remember betrayal on that scale, yes." This whole situation has moved beyond ludicrous and into unbelievable. "I didn't bring you anywhere, Jayne. And I-- it's not? Let me see it."

Jayne jerks his arm away and back up from Simon and...well any other strange-looking thing that might be nearby. Something's weird, in that seen-it-before-but-ain't way things sometimes get, and he hates that feeling. It ain't normal.

"Maybe I'm dreamin'..." Nightmare, more like. What with Simon being in it and all. Only thing that'd make it worse is that addle-brained sister of his.

[ooc: Simon and Jayne have arrived together, yes. Be prepared to be answered by either one (or both) of them. :)]