taxonomites | Entries tagged with { kate beckett

littlestcastle.livejournal.com

[Backdated forever because I fail at putting things up on time]

For a long moment, the tablet's visual showed nothing but a grey-white haze, eventually resolving into swirls and billows of smoke. There was the sound of coughing, and a lot of handwaving, and anyone who walked by outside would have seen a small plume of pale smoke streaming through an open window.

Eventually the smoke cleared and a triumphant Alexis appeared on the screen, smiling widely. "I think the smoke bomb worked that time, Mr. Smecker."

smecker.livejournal.com

( Paul Smecker maintains a list of scents he doesn't wish to smell ever again... (all my usual teal deer) )

Paul digs out his tablet, his cigarettes, one with each hand. He lights up before turning on the communications device, flips it to an open visual broadcast to the city.

"Hi. Paul Smecker here. We've probably got some new faces here since the last time I said a nice big group how-the-fuck-do-you-do, so: How the fuck do you do? Or, here's a better and more interesting question: what do you do, everybody?

"We're each here from god knows where, and in some cases when. It's entirely possible we're selected on pure caprice, but operating on that hypothesis doesn't give us anything helpful, so personally I'm choosing to invest in the alternate theory, which states that we were all snatched from our so-very-happy lives for a reason. Don't know what it is, but I personally would like to know more about who my fellow inmates in the inter-stellar zoo are. Some of you who are willing to answer will probably lie; I can't stop you, obviously.

"Part of why I'd like to know is that if we have a crisis again, like the zombies, that's a threat that affects all of us, whether or not we trust each other. And I'm pretty sure we all hate the hamsters. So we do have common enemies; what we don't have is anything like a coherent way to approach our common enemies. I'm not going to even try and talk about organizing against the hamsters right now; frankly I doubt the lot of us could cooperate enough to work our combined way out of a wet cardboard box.

"But zombies, and things like that: we can do simple shit, for fuck's sake. We can organize defensible points. Those of you who are superhuman, and obviously there are those of you who are, can make it clear if you're willing to pitch in to protect the less fucking gifted. As for the rest of us, being slower than speeding bullets doesn't mean we don't have skills: what I am trying to do right now is ascertain what those skills are, what people are good at. If you know first aid, if you know how to defend yourself, if you're good with electronics, good with barricading a building-- we can't organize if we don't know our resources.

"So, what the fuck, I'll go first:

"Paul Smecker, career FBI agent, to those of you from realities with no FBI it's law enforcement with an investigative mandate. My area of expertise was largely forensics-based, but I can handle a gun, I can do CPR and other basic first aid, I'm a good cook and I will kick your ass in any sort of classical music trivia contest you want to have.

"Next? Oh, and Buffy and DG? You two got time for a chat?"

Current Mood: determined

taintedrose

The tablet feed clicks on to reveal Rose curled up on her couch in her apartment, nursing a huge glass of scotch. She seems to be unaware that this is being recorded as she takes sips from her drink, not really focusing on anything in particular. Rose looks like she hasn't slept in days and she's been crying; the tear stains still visible on her cheeks.

"I don't think I can do this anymore."

After downing her glass, Rose sets it down on the table beside the couch before she starts to cry again, overwhelmed with emotion that she just can't seem to control. She would never willingly let someone see her like this and it's clear that she doesn't want to appear this vulnerable. Rose glances down at her tablet for a moment and that's when she realises that this is being shown to the whole of Taxon.

With a frustrated sob, she switches off the tablet and ends the feed.

littlestcastle.livejournal.com

The tablet flickers on, and there's a glimpse of Alexis on the roof of a building before she turns the tablet away and points it at the roof. The camera angle jumps a few times, as if Alexis is fiddling with something, then the camera flies out into the air, jumping wildly for a moment before its descent is slowed by a whoosh of wind. The tablet sways a couple of times, sometimes showing a visual of the nearby buildings, sometimes showing a cage built of straight wooden rods and string.

The tablet descends gently until it hits the steps of the Taxon library, then it bounces a couple of times and comes to rest against a rock. The view shows the rock for a few minutes, then a shot of Alexis running up, then a closeup of her feet before it turns off.

noheatnikki.livejournal.com

The tablet turns on without Kate's knowledge from it's position on the counter of the Kate and Amy's shoe store at the mall. Kate is leaned back on a bench, her foot in the air, a stiletto heel on it. Next to her is a bottle of the free whiskey, half empty (or half full, depending on your view). Kate took advantage of the last day of free alcohol to unwind a bit and try on some shoes.

She glanced over her shoulder and noticed the red light of the tablet on. She gestured to her foot.

"What do you think? Are they me? I can't decide."

She turned and grinned at the tablet.

"If anyone is bored, feel free to come down and try on some shoes with me! Retail therapy is always helpful."

garg-elisa.livejournal.com

A couple of days ago, while exploring the city, Elisa had come across something in Central which had caught her eye. It was, to her eye, an abandon martial arts dojo. Mirrors along one wall, gym mats and sparring equipment in storage, and largely being not much more than a large-ish open room with a storage room and a back office. She wasn't sure why she'd decided to look inside, but she had, though she'd left it at that for the evening.

The next night, she'd come back with cleaning supplies and gotten the place fixed up. She'd realized, after one more night of gliding around the city, that she really needed something to do with herself if she was going to keep from going crazy. And while she'd made plenty of friends and acquaintances, she also needed a purpose. Both as a cop and a Gargoyle, she wasn't really happy if she wasn't protecting people.

There would still be a lot to do, but with all the chaos that could sometimes go on, teaching people how to fight would not be a bad idea at all. And she herself had both her police training and the additional instruction Goliath and Hudson had given her. She was certainly qualified.

The third night, she turned on her tablet for a broadcast.

"Hello, Taxon," she said. "Hopefully I've got this damn thing working right... Anyway, Elisa here, and I'm setting up a dojo down here in Central, offering self-defense instruction. Figure we could probably use it. Also looking for a couple other people to bring on as instructors, so I'll probably be interviewing for that if anyone's interested...."

imperial-long.livejournal.com

The tablet had been very helpful in letting him know when it might be wise to leave his rooms. When the coast was clear of possibly hostile dots, Long shouldered a satchel containing a few books and notebooks he had thought it simply unbearable to leave behind (and what a trial it had been, deciding that, winnowing it down to what he could carry). Toiletries, amenities, and then down the six flights of stairs to the ground floor.

( dien and her usual teal deer )
Long's list of grievances (neatly bullet-pointed, each one to be discussed at length with his alien overlords should the opportunity ever arise) had grown considerably by the time he reached the Hotel Carmilla, and his priorities had altered accordingly. So it was that a half hour later he was esconced in the Carmilla's bar and lounge. He'd already had a fair amount of (free) whiskey by the time his tablet, carelessly set down on the counter nearby, started broadcasting.

"--and furthermore it is criminal treatment of one's prisoners-- chocolate pillow mints are, are, they are acceptable desserts but-- do not constitute-- much in the way of sh- satisfying fare for several days-- and there is this issue of the madman, surely so many might simply see to his being inter-- insta-- institutionalized--"

At some point in his harangue of the uncaring Extra bartender, Long noticed the blinking light of his tablet, and stared at it blankly. It was difficult to focus; his head moved back and forth as he tried to find the focal distance, and the action combined with his eyes being a bright, glassy gold gave him a distinctly reptilian vibe.

"Bah. These abominations are worse than the Emperor's spies. Well, Taxon? Shall we write them a communing-- communal letter of express complaints and rrreequested renew-- renum-- recompensation which they will, I am sure, promptly ignore?

"Blue hell, I finally begin to understand why mankind rails so about the weather: it is emanate-- eminently useless, and all the same grievances require some expressing."

Long's accent was as British as ever, but a good deal of crispness had been lost to an alcohol slur.

OOC: Open to anyone wanting to discuss that whole dragon thing with Long, as he's as loose-tongued as he'll ever be about it. For that matter, open to anyone period, including those wishing to harangue him for being at a bar, drunk, instead of safely in some residence, or to 'madmen' wishing to take issue with being called such. ;)

numbersnfigures.livejournal.com

Spencer drained the spaghetti as Kate was putting the finishing touches on the sauce. He glanced back at their small table, now hastily set for three. They would need a bigger table if Alexis was going to stay permanently. The apartment was cozy with two, but a bit small with three, even though Alexis had been staying in the spare bedroom.

He placed the bowl of spaghetti on the table and gave Alexis a smile. From the few days that he'd known her, she seemed like a very bright, considerate and driven girl, and he was eager to get to know her a bit better. Spencer sat down next to her and placed his napkin in his lap as Kate brought the sauce over.

"That looks good."

Unconsciously, he placed his hand on Kate's thigh as she sat down, rubbing her gently. Having Alexis around would take some getting used to. He hoped that this dinner would be the first of many "family" dinners they would have. Spencer served Kate some spaghetti before offering it to Alexis.

taintedrose

The visual feed clicks on, showing Rose sitting down in a field. The weather was bright and sunny, something that Rose had missed. It was the field that adjoined the house she grew up in, over five hundred years ago. Rose couldn't believe that something so significant from her early life found itself into Taxon; it was the place where she went to think and relax, where she rode on the horses that grazed there. Moreover, the field was the last thing she remembered before her death, when Damon created the dream for her before she was staked by him, as an act of mercy.

Speaking of Damon, Rose was surprised that he didn't remember her or what had happened. Eventually, she put the pieces together and realised that he must have been from an earlier time to her, pulled into Taxon sometime before. Her joy at seeing Lexi again made up for that. Finding one of her dearest friends after losing two others was incredible and Rose vowed to spend as much time as possible with her. The only negative thing so far about Taxon was the presence of Katherine but Rose wasn't going to let her ruin anything. A part of her wished to see Elena and Stefan again-even if they didn't know who she was; she had grown fond of the young girl and Rose had a great respect for Stefan.

The last thing that Rose wanted from Taxon was to make new friends and everyone that had spoken to her when she arrived seemed pleasant enough. She believed that setting up an open invitation to the field would be a good way to meet those people, as well as talk to others. After a moment, she turned her attention to the tablet, addressing the city.

"Would anyone like to join me?"

Current Mood: calm

noheatnikki.livejournal.com

The tablet shows the conference room of the library, and a table with some snacks, before shaking a bit and Kate appears.

"Hey all. Since the zombies seem to be gone, thank god, I just wanted to check in and see how everyone fared. The cops especially."

She sighed, still feeling a bit guilty that she didn't do more to organize the law enforcement folks before the zombies showed up. As if she could predict zombies as a potential event. She shakes her head.

"Anyway, just wanted to make sure you were all okay. I've got some more snacks, if anyone wants to stop by. We can swap zombies stories," Okay, yeah, that wasn't as funny as she meant for it to be, "and maybe discuss something we can do in case something like this happens again."

She gestures to the room at large. "I've kind of commandeered this room from Reid for law enforcement, since there's so many of us, a kind of casual meeting place. Feel free to come by if you'd like."

littlestcastle.livejournal.com

Alexis glanced at her phone as she hurried down the stairs to the subway station. “I'm going to be so late,” she fretted, dodging around an older man with an oversized briefcase as she dialed a number on the phone. She swiped her subway pass and scooted through the turnstile as the phone rang, and rang, until it clicked to voicemail. “Oh hey, Justin! I just wanted to call to let you know that I'm running a little late for our violin lesson toda--”

The rest of her message died in her throat as, between one step and the next, the familiar confines of the New York subway system became something completely different, a seamless expanse of sterile, featureless steel.

Alexis gaped, mouth still slightly open. “Hello?” she finally asked. “My name is Alexis Castle. Can anybody tell me where I am? Or how I got here?”

Her own words echoed back at her, and Alexis chewed her bottom lip as she fumbled with her phone, hitting her dad's number on speed dial without any conscious thought. She didn't wait for him to pick up; if she had, she would have realized the phone wasn't ringing, but finding herself in a strange room when she had two seconds before been in the crowded subway station made Alexis less than rational. “Dad? Are you there? I need you to come get me, I think I'm in trouble,” she said, trying her best to sound calm, though it was hard to hide the edge of hysteria, the rising panic in her voice. “I was on my way home, in the subway station, but now I'm not, I'm in a little round room and there isn't anything here--” A pause, as she notices for the first time a podium with a device resting on it. Her voice quavers as she continues, “Except a podium, and I'm getting scared, Dad. Can you come get me?”

imperial-long.livejournal.com

[[Backdated to day four of Zombie Hell]

Again the tablet is displaying at an odd angle, incorporated into Oolong's bracelet as it is. The city sweeps by in disorienting swatches of building rooftops, building walls, pavement seeming to rush towards the screen, then shots of the skyline and shots of the sky-- repeated over and over as the dragon loops through the air, flying over the streets and trying to find accumulated groups of zombies to vent his fires on.

( Read more... ) The broadcast is now a grounds-level view of the pavement stretching away, and the bloody, rotting feet and legs of four zombies shuffling closer to the dinner that has so obligingly appeared before them, unarmed, naked, and dazed.

OOC: Oolong is Long again! no more dragony funtimes for him. sadface. The tablet will once more display his name and location as Mayland Long though.

numbersnfigures.livejournal.com

For the first few days of the attack, Spencer Reid had sensed there was something amiss, but hadn't seen any tangible proof of such. He had heard the reports over the tablets of zombies (of all things) roaming the streets, but things seemed fine back at his apartment in Shelley.

It wasn't until the third day when he got off the tram in Osten and was walking towards the library when it hit him that this was more than an isolated incident. As he neared the entrance to the library, an Extra with a decaying body leapt at him from the side of the building.

( mild zombie violence, so cut? )

Safely inside, he fumbled for his tablet.

"Z-Zombies... in Osten... outside of the library..."

He swallowed hard, trying to calm down and be the responsible law-enforcement officer that he felt he had to be.

"I-If these zombies are anything like the traditional zombies of lure, the thing that is keeping them animated is their brain function. Disrupting brain function will cause them to fall. Still, I-I caution you against taking these matters into your own hands... S-Stay inside in a fortified place if you can."

At that, he shut off the tablet and set to strengthening the doors to the library by pushing several tables and chairs against them. He drew the curtains on all the windows, hoping that if they couldn't see him inside, they wouldn't try to break in. After Spencer felt more comfortable that he was securely inside, he headed to the back room where Kate had held her police meeting just a few weeks earlier. He sank down into one of the chairs at the table, his hand still shaking. Spencer didn't like to fire his gun for any reason, even if it was to kill something about to attack him. He placed the revolver on the table and stared it. Six rounds, one gone. If the undead managed to get in, he would probably be toast.

It was then that his eyes fell on a box in the back corner of the room - Casey's weapons which he and Kate had stashed there after he had left Taxon. The idea of using an assault rife nauseated him, but never before had the thought been this appealing.

[OOC - Backdated to Day 3. Possible violence in comments if Spencer is convinced to come out and fight. If you'd like your character to be stuck with him in the library, by all means go for it. :) ]

garg-elisa.livejournal.com

The first night of the zombies, they had been too far away from Central and Elisa's apartment for her to notice. When she went out, she largely confined her gliding to that portion of Taxon.

The next night, she'd thought she'd seen something in a few spots, a few extras acting a little strange, but nothing definite. Something was definitely up, but she couldn't figure out what.

By the third night, however, she was immediately aware of the problem as soon as she woke from her stone sleep. The zombies filling the ground below--and they had to be zombies, nothing else acted like that--were more worrisome. She wasn't especially worried for her own safety (she was on the top floor after all), at least, not for the moment. But if it got any worse... if they tried anything during the day...

She opened her tablet up for a visual broadcast. "What the hell is going on?"

imperial-long.livejournal.com

The last of the small red envelopes were sealed. Long took a jar of ink and a brush from the drawer of the lacquered table, and began to methodically mark most of them with the character for happiness. Had a calligraphy instructor been present to witness his handiwork, they would have remarked his technique was precise and technically correct but overly mechanical.

Beneath each character, he wrote the name of each planned recipient in English. The last one, which he hesitated over, he addressed to 'Winifred Burkle'. This envelope was placed in the alcove that had once held his statue and was now slowly gathering dust.

(It was an adjustment, not being able to call on the cleaning staff of the James Herald Hotel. He made a mental note to do something about that.)

The other envelopes he gathered up and put into the pockets of his wool coat. It was bright outside, but Long knew all about deceptively sunny yet still chilly winter days, and it was only February.

Down the elevator, six stories to the ground, and out into..... balmy, sunny, 75-degree weather.

He blinked, suspiciously, at the melting snow on the sidewalks, then gingerly took off his coat and started to walk for the tram station with it draped over one arm.

He absently quoted lines from Herodotus (on the Persian Empire's postal service) to himself as he walked. Did Taxon have a postal service? Perhaps that would be a useful way of occupying oneself and earning money? But then again it would probably be frowned upon to pry into other people's letters. If anyone still sent letters. The tablets were convenient, he couldn't deny, but dreadfully unromantic.

No matter; he went about his self-appointed rounds, stayed by neither snow nor rain nor completely inexplicable summertime.

[ooc: Long is passing out red money envelopes to the following people in the comments: Kaylee, Jayne, River, Jenny, Stefan, Glitch, Cain, Gene, Spencer, Kate, Angel, Willow, B'Elanna, Drusilla, Elisa, Dawn, Godric, Sam Axe, and Michael Westen. Note that doesn't mean you have to tag/play! If you don't respond to this post, no worries, Long will just have left the envelope at your residence and you can choose to acknowledge that or not as you please.]

Current Mood: busy

noheatnikki.livejournal.com

Kate propped the tablet up on the counter and flipped it on, waiting for the red light to come on before she backed up to speak. Behind her can be seen a long conference table in a windowed room, and through the window, what is obviously a library.

"Okay everyone. We've been talking about getting all the law enforcement-types together, so I decided to go ahead and do it. Reid's given us this room at the library," she holds up a box with a smile, "and I've got doughnuts and bad coffee for all you traditionalists. It will be a little piece of home."

She puts down the box and gets serious again. "So get down here, so we can meet each other and get some plans formulated. Or, you know, just hang out and eat doughnuts."

There's a small grin from her before she turns the tablet off.

[This is mainly for the law enforcement folks in Taxon, but anyone is welcome to stop by. The more the merrier! And please, threadjack to your heart's content. :)

iminmynightie.livejournal.com

The tablet turns on and all one can see for a moment is Amy's blurry hand before she moves it back to pick up her fork. She's eating a salad, and the glitched vegetables are making her want to spout as many lies from her lips as she can.

"This ice cream is amaaaaazing," she says, tilting her bowl away from the tablet that's propped up on a couple cookbooks, though the close observer would have already seen the leafy greens.

"Much better than any you guys get from the hatch. I tweaked it, using the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, to give me better tasting food."

She twirled her fork in the air. "You know, these hamsters aren't so bad once you get to know them. I played bridge with a couple last night and then we went to karaoke. The big brown and white one can't carry a tune, but that's all right. He paid for my drinks, so that makes up for being tone deaf."

Propping her leg up on the kitchen table, the tablet goes clacking against the table surface, filming the ceiling.

"Oi, did you guys feel that? Taxon just had an earthquake." One could hear the sound of Amy crunching on lettuce and croutons for a moment before her other leg joined the first on the table and the tablet shook.

"Whoops. Aftershocks."

[ooc: I'm taking advantage of the glitched foods to make Amy a liar. She's going to lie about everything your characters try to talk to her about for two hours.]

numbersnfigures.livejournal.com

Spencer Reid appears on your screen with a bit of a mischievous smile on his face. You might notice that he's not wearing his usual cardigan and button down shirt. He has, in fact, decided to give the T-shirts given to him by Kaylee a try and is finding them... rather comfortable.

"Wanna see a magic trick?"

Without waiting for an answer, Spencer holds up a dollar, one that was in his wallet when he was transported here, as well as a pen. He moves them around a bit to show that they're genuine, then stabs the point of the pen through George Washington's eye. He turns the bill to the side so that the pen is facing up. Somehow, he manages to move the pen around inside of the bill without ripping it. He bites his lip, concentrating. Finally he pulls the pen out the side of the bill with a flourish. Spencer lays them down on the table in front of him, so that everyone can see that the pen is whole and dollar has no damage to it whatsoever.

He grins a shy, yet proud grin, then shuts off the tablet.

[OOC - You can see him performing a version of this trick here starting at around 0:40, just in case my description isn't very clear lol]

numbersnfigures.livejournal.com

A very odd sight is about to come roaring down your streets, Taxon.

The sound of a '94 Harley Davidson Softail is one not often heard in this town and the people riding on it certainly don't look typical either. Driving is Kate Beckett, wearing a leather jacket, jeans and a pair of sunglasses. She looks determined, nonplussed. On the back is Dr. Spencer Reid, genius, wearing black khakis, a sweater vest and an expression of utmost terror as he clings to Kate for dear life, despite the fact that they're only going about 30 miles an hour.

Yes, Kate managed to talk Spencer into going on a ride on her motorcycle. How exactly she did it is anyone's guess.

[OOC - So they're riding around Taxon here, there, and everywhere. Feel free to flag them down and lol at Spencer's horrified face.]

iminmynightie.livejournal.com

Stirring her tea with a spoon, Amy idly listened to the sound of the metal hitting the ceramic sides of her cup. She was thinking.

The Doctor had been gone... well, she didn't know how long, but it seemed to her she'd just become aware of it. When had she last spoken to him? Or even seen him? Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled brushing aside ideas of calling out to him from the living room, or knocking on his bedroom door. But why? What had held her back?

She stopped stirring and left the spoon in her cup as she picked her tablet off the kitchen table and turned it on. She searched the map for him again, and again it told her he wasn't there. The Doctor was clever though, so very, very clever, so if he had reason to, he could easily hide himself from the tablet's map. But for what reason? And why wouldn't he tell her before he rushed off to do whatever it was that he was secretly doing?

A little voice in her head said that the reason he wasn't on the map was because he was taken out of Taxon. The feeling of tears started behind her eyes, but she held them back and grew angry instead. The Doctor wouldn't abandon her. Not again. Not after twelve years of waiting the first time, then two more years after that.

Of course, that wretched little voice said, the Doctor wouldn't have a choice. The hamsters would take him away against his will.

"Shut it, you," she grumbled, then pressed a hand to her forehead because she was talking to herself.

Straightening up and clearing her throat, she turned the tablet over to the voice section and tried to sound like she wasn't upset at all.

"Hello, fellow Taxon residents! Anybody seen the Doctor 'round recently? He seems to be playing a very intricate game of hide and seek."

[ooc: Amy was glitched by the hamsters to not notice the Doctor's disappearance until after Christmas, so she could enjoy it and not be mopey. But now he's gone and it's time to feel abandoned. ;_;]