taxonomites | Entries tagged with { martha jones

One moment, he is awareness and wonder, seeing through eyes that have no form, no jelly or pupil, nothing but pure sight.

The next he is hitting hard flooring, feeling heavy appendages and twitching tendons and the pressure of air around him. His awareness is contracted, uncomfortably small and located and yet a gaping emptiness echoes through his chest where organs and the rest of his soul had sat.

He’s back in his hated body, the twisted, monstrous visage that had clawed its way from the underworld time and time again. He pushes himself upright, sheltering too sensitive eye sockets from the strange, brilliant light that floods them.

He twists, looking for a way out of the chamber he’s trapped in. The walls are white and arcane, nothing he has seen before. He throws his awareness open to throw off his mortal shell, to let the spirit world show him the way out.

The world doesn’t shift. The heavy flesh stubbornly clings to him.

Looking down, he sees his arm. No curling, writhing energy, no call of the Soul Reaver, just a strange, metal band in its place.

He screams. He has no words for what he feels, for the entrapment and the anguish, the loss and confusion. He just screams without sound, curled claws banging on the floor.

skysung

Kitten had hesitated to visit the zoo. For anyone who can understand the speech of animals, zoos are exceedingly unhappy places unless they are constructed with the animals' natural habitats in mind. She is relatively pleasantly surprised by Taxon's zoo, but then, she supposes that the aliens are used to adding amenities to their prisons.

Then she reaches a section that makes her skin crawl in the same way Ozorne's menagerie had. Unicorns. Not killer unicorns, even, but their far from malicious cousins. Winged apes not in league to anyone and wishing to fly free.

Kitten screeches. She holds back just long enough to listen to the creatures for a moment, to get a clearer idea of whether they would be peaceful when released. As soon as she is satisfied they will be, Kitten takes action.

With a low croak, she shatters the locks on their cages, the entrances to their enclosures swinging open.

Unicorns and flying monkeys flee from their prisons-within-the-prison, free to at least travel the larger enclousure of the city itself. And then, to protect her new acquaintances, Kitten turns to the tablet.

She slowly types a message, switches to visual mode long enough to whistle for everyone's attention, then transmits what she has to say.

I am aware that many of you will be concerned at the appearance of winged monkeys in the skies of Taxon, considering recent events. Be advised that those currently flying throughout the city are not in service to anyone. They have no desire to harm humans, and should you attack them unprovoked, I will see it as an attack on an innocent and respond accordingly. It is bad enough that we are all trapped within the large prison of the city. I see no need to leave magical creatures imprisoned in an even smaller cage, not unless they are a threat to others present here. Neither the unicorns nor the winged apes released today should pose such a threat.

((OOC: Feel free to use this as a party style post! Tag each other, encounter the newly released creatures around the city, respond to Kitten's network post, have fun finding out that you can't get near the unicorns unless you're a virgin, etc.))

kpcalmntelepath

Charles looked around the room, narrowing his eyes slightly in the process. He had been sure he had entered Hank's lab, but as it were, the young professor found himself in an entirely unfamiliar place. Unless Hank had decided to redecorate...And interior design was not the furred mutant's strong point, Charles was sure of that.

Closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, slowly exhaling while counting to ten had calmed the slight twinge of panic and fear which had flared up inside of him enough that Charles could focus on his surroundings. A thousand questions and analysis raced through his mind, including a brief flash of blue-green eyes and a strong jaw, but those particular thoughts were quickly suppressed and shoved behind a heavy wooden door.

Glancing up provided him with a possible means of transport, though the hows and whys and whats were very much out of grasp. Next, he took in the platform upon which his wheelchair stood, metal just like the rest of the room, as well as the smaller podium which stood just off to the side. Rolling over to the podium, Charles picked up what seems to be a small computer, only to finally notice the wide ring of silver around his wrist. Frowning before pursing his lips, Charles traced the edges of the bracelet, tilting his head slightly.

"Whoever you are, my friend, you have outdone yourself." He spoke while still examining the metal around his wrist before looking up to where, approximately, a six foot man's face would be. "Truly, you have even surpassed my old friend...Well, I say friend." The last part was barely above a whisper as Charles' eyes harden before he blinked back the memories which were trying to resurface once again. Another inhale/exhale, though this time with his eyes squeezed shut, Charles opens his baby blues and focuses on nothing in particular.

"Now, I understand you probably brought me here for a specific purpose, but as it were, I'd much rather be acknowledged with the presence of another rather than simply given hints as to what needs to be done." He huffed ever so slightly, before his eyes trail down the slightly sloping ramp to an opened door at the end.

"My friend, who ever you may be, I seemed to have underestimated you." The brunet chuckles, fingers gently dancing over the screen of the tablet, poking and prodding the contraption before placing it onto his lap and slowly easing his way down the ramp.

~~[OOC: Please forgive my utter lack of icons, atm...I couldn't wait to go home and post this <3]~~

build

Quietly perched on a bench located not far from the Sanctuary, Ariadne sat, her brow furrowing in thought as her attention moves between the tablet in front of her and the Sanctuary itself. Only to finally turn her attention fully onto the tablet, addressing anyone that happens to be listening.

"Does this sort of thing happen all the time?" She asks, clearly sounding more curious then anything as she lets out a deep sigh, quickly adding for clarification: "The Witch or whatever that is? Do these things happen often here, or was this just something completely new?" Because really, if not, this is one messed up dream she now seems to be in and she has no idea how to even wrap her head around it.

She pauses then, her nose crinkling slightly as one of her hands unconsciously starts rubbing at the back of her neck, quickly working out her next few thoughts she wants to get out.

"Obviously I'm new here and of course there is still a lot that I need to understand. So I'm hoping some of you are willing to help me with a few things? Such as living arrangements, places of interests, common rules we should be aware of -- things like that."

A beat, and she is adding with a clear curiosity to her. "I'm mostly curious if anyone has attempted to find a way home yet though?" She stresses home more then anything there, as this is in no way her home and she can only assume people (if they weren't projections that is) would feel that way as well. "And if not, why haven't you?"

ooc: feel free to have this action as well,
assuming she is in a public place, visitors watching the message are bound to appear, right?
Pretty much just let her pick at your characters brains for some answers.

aintnoconvict

Glitch was trying to remember why he couldn't remember, a problem which had frequently plagued him but not quite so troublingly. It was because he could remember remembering and all of his marbles clicking together like a...a whole bunch of really organized marbles. Now he stayed in his room or sat at Her Highness' knee and wondered where the young dancer had gone, and why no one came to visit, and if they could go for a picnic and ow why was his hair being pulled.

Oh, that must have been out loud. Glitch was trying to remember why he couldn't remember how to make DG happy. She'd been this funny sort of angry ever since--

A kiss on his cheek and a voice in his head. And something red. He liked red, it was a wax seal, a slim ribbon around a book, soft chenille against his cheek. It was hair, a woman with red hair who'd looked into his mind and then everything had gone bad. Maybe...if he found her, if he asked her nicely she'd fix it and it all would be okay again.

It's an idea, a notion, and one he keeps to himself. Over a couple days it becomes the on thing he remembers: the red haired woman in his head, and forgetting, and then DG doing...what she's doing. Glitch had to do something about it, and so decided to sneak out. DG wouldn't be pleased, she wanted to keep him close/safe/heeled but maybe if he did something for himself it'd show her that things were okay still.

...all right he may have needed to knock out a couple of the longcoat Extras (why was that familiar) on his way out, but soon he was weaving his way through Wilde. And then he was lost. And then he was really lost.

He ducked behind a food counter and cautiously turned on his tablet. He'd have to be careful about this, careful and quiet, didn't want to let on that he was out.

"Hi," he whispered, carefully and quietly on a visual broadcast to everyone. "I-it's Glitch, I'm...somewhere. I need to find the lady with the red hair so she'll fix whatever she did to my noggin and and stuff'll be better. Um. Yes, I-I-I've gotta look for her."

And so he did with much meandering around Taxon, the map showing exactly where he was and the tablet occasionally broadcasting updates of his progress. Wicked stealthy, headcase.

ooc: IN THIS POST is more witch!plot, also brainless!Glitch for your ~~horrors~~ pleasure. the witch is not going to be happy with this development and will be sending her best Extras and monkeybats to track down her missing pet. killing monkeybats = weakening the witch, so go wild with that! WACKY PLOT HIJINKS PARTY POST, BASICALLY.

loveawkward

The act of being social was more pressure on Josef than he had considered. Not that he wasn't finding it enjoyable in many cases - surprisingly enough to the - but for a man that had spent a lot of years as a recluse it was trying in ways he hadn't imagined. Ways that were taking their toll.

Despite Mick's warning, he had taken an attempt at feeding utilizing one of the extras with the assumption that it wouldn't be much different than times when he had sustained on animal blood. It was far from the same.

Settling into the place he'd sought out, an open floor plan like the one he'd had before that offered a view and potential. For what he had no idea yet. Little showed beside him, settled into a chair and with the tablet set so that he could be seen. A stark background to a pale man in a dark shirt with the collar open.

"Evening boys and girls. I go by the name Josef and after a bit of a talk with she who would see herself empress, I'm curious about the political structure here in the city. Anyone that could help with that, I would much appreciate it."

Pausing as if just to adjust his cuffs, glancing down then back to the tablet. "Also, for those who are aware of the special needs of some like Mick, I would be thankful to work out some sort of arrangement for the same thing."

[Visual locked to Mick] He sat back, considering just what to say to his friend now that he had experienced the city for himself. "How do you do it? This social, building from the ground up thing is exhausting in ways I had forgotten." Or, in truth, never known. Position and power had meant he hadn't dealt with this before. "I need some information." When did he not need Mick's work to further his own desires?

apackofone

Remus paces restlessly around a small cottage room. There's little in the way of furniture visible, just an armchair and some curtains fluttering in the breeze, suggesting a garden outside beyond the open window.

The man shifts restlessly, clearly agitated and muttering to himself, throwing himself into the arm chair, getting up again to pace, tugging his hair with his hands. "It's getting too soon, too close, I can feel it, but even if I found a brewer, it's too late to start for this cycle. I should tell them, no, Remus, think, you can't tell them, they don't even seem to have magic here, explaining the details of being a Dark Creature isn't going to go over well. But I'm a danger. I know I'm a danger and I need them to stay away. I'm not near anyone, but someone might come looking for me, because they're all nice and thoughtful that way, buggeration, I can't think when it's so close!"

He throws himself into the armchair, glowering at the tablet. "And you, you horrible little thing. Why are you flashing at me? I don't know what you want, stop it."

He's clearly not quite himself. He also clearly has no idea that the tablet flashing means 'broadcast'.

angry_salad

[ The video flickers on and--yeah. It's definitely not a purposeful broadcast, because the tablet's at an odd angle and partially obscured by what looks like a clear red four-sided die. There's a large easel with a whiteboard set on it, Arthur's neat and careful handwriting evident:

REALITY VS DREAM TOTEM tampered EXTRAS - projections??? PRISONERS - shades? limbo? SUB TRAINING BRACELET - ???? SUICIDE DEATH?]

NONE of this-- [ Arthur steps into view from pacing--he's a few short moments from flinging the dry eraser at something, too. ] --Makes a single amount of sense. Because of the totem possibility the only source of certainty we have is gone. [ He's thinking out loud, more than anything, but Ariadne's in the corner, slightly off-screen. ] I honestly don't even know what to say right now.

( ...And I will lead them on a merry chase )

thornandmoss

Briar is stretched out on the peak at the center of a slanted roof, a makeshift shelf for building supplies set up next to him. He has obviously just finished modifying the roof, widening the ridgepole of it. Not to make it easier to reach, but to give him a comfortable seat when he does. Briar leans back and rests his elbows on the lip of the chimney, the weather warm enough that no fire is lit below. Running water forms faint background noise, his home located not far from the river.

"Has anyone else noticed how strange the plant life here is?" he asks idly, alternately basking in the sun and enjoying the view. The garden, the sun, and the cloudwatching are all doing him more good than he can say after recent events. Being up on a roof always did seem to help some.

During Briar's first explorations of the city, he made note of both familiar and unfamiliar plants, anything he could find as many of them went dormant for the colder months. "The weather here fluctuates more than the usual climate for a lot of vegetation I've found. I wondered whether they adapted to cope with a wider variety of temperatures and rainfall levels." He pauses, frowning. "But they haven't."

Briar's garden stands out in stark contrast to the neighboring areas to someone who knows what he's looking for. Seeing it from above only makes what he has already observed from ground level even clearer. "My garden is still growing what I planted in it recently, but nearby? That's different. There's plants that weren't there before, plants that wouldn't have survived the colder months here. Decade-old trees that hate cold temperatures are flourishing, and they weren't in the city when we got snow."

He grins now, informing everyone, "Fruit trees that weren't even around to get pollinated are in season. I've transplanted some vegetables that are near the end of their growing cycle but definitely weren't last time I checked them. If anyone wants lemons or oranges, I've found a lot. I've also got--" He reaches into his pocket, retrieving a brown and fuzzy-skinned oblong fruit. Briar peels half of it with a small knife, biting into the juicy green fruit inside. He chews, swallows, and smiles again. "I don't know the name for these, but they're good."

He shrugs a shoulder. "I'm in the northwest district, Wilde, a mile upriver from the tram line to the center of the city." City still seemed a misleading word, given the massive size of the place. "You're welcome to stop by and visit if you'd like some fruit or some company." Briar adds as an afterthought, "Or a sparring partner. I haven't gotten much practice with a staff lately."

apackofone

One moment he is running through the forest of Serbia.

There are howls and screams following him, inhuman despite the lack of moon in the sky. His muscles burn from running but he forces himself on, needing to get outside the edges of their territory. If he can just make it to the edge of their territory, he will be fine.

Screeching phantasms rush up from behind, shrieking his position to his hunters. He blasts them as fast as he can to silence them, to buy himself those few extra strides that get him ever closer to safety.

One moment he is running, bursting through the shimmering wards that mark the territory. The next he is letting himself fall, whispering for the magic to rip him away and back to his hotel in the middle of the Muggle townstead.

That isn't where he lands.

There is a distinct lack of smoke, dust and noise in the next moment. And far too much light to be his hotel. Or, indeed, the townstead, which is still mostly relying on gas and goodwill to stay lit at night.

But there is a lack of angry, murderous werewolves, so all in all, it isn't worst place he could be.

He sits down, deciding to get his breath back first. A pat down reveals his situation. "Bugger." He's lost his compass (which he didn't need anyway), his map (which probably wasn't going to help right now, all things considered) and his last bar of chocolate (which is a pity, because he really could have used that). But he still has his wallet and his wand, so the important things were taken care of.

"Right. Well. There's no door," he murmurs. "And a big... pointy... thing on the ceiling. Muggle thing. And another muggle thing! Wonderful. I wish I had been to school in the last ten years or so and I might know what that was." He rubbed his stubble thoughtfully. "No one's trying to eat me. And there's nothing hosing me down, tying me up or screaming in my ear, so it could be worse. However I have no food, no water and no idea where I am. That's less wonderful. But I have a wand. So they don't want me harmless. But they can interrupt my apparation, which means they probably consider me with a wand a negligible threat anyway. Merlin's beard, I have spent far too long on my own if I'm thinking out loud without knowing if I'm being listened in on. Hello out there? Could you let me out, only I've got some rather important business to get back to, thanks awfully."

brokenoptimism

"Hello?"

The mansion is quiet but for a few strange minds he has never touched before and Charles is curious. Not frightened. Just curious. He found the baseball bat where he always kept it, slightly disturbed by the gun resting a hand's reach closer. Where had that come from? Guns were dreadful things.

"Mother?"

Bat firmly in hand he padded barefoot down the stairs, barely aware of the bracelet on his wrist, projecting his image to anyone in Taxon who cared to look.

"Who is there? I know you are here. I can hear you."

angry_salad

[ Arthur is testing things. It's why there's a few mass texts over the log, though they've all been sent quite late at night (or early in the morning, depending on your point of view. ]

1. Does anyone remember how they got here? 2. Totem 3. The next sentence is true. The previous sentence is false.

[Locked to Ashley Magnus, Gwen Raiden, Madelyne Pryor, Mick St. John]
Let me know if you can see this message. Testing encryption.

secretshame

It's morning, a time that's usually spent waking up and getting ready for the day. Usually, Jenna would be out of the door by this hour. But no. Not today. Today, she's just taken a tumble out of her bed, knocking her tablet off the dresser and to the floor next to her. A dark red patch has appeared around her stomach area and she clearly doesn't have the presence of mind to even press her hand to the wound to stop the bleeding. In fact, her eyes are glassy, as though she's not really seeing what's happening, and the truth of it is that she won't remember this at all.

Clearly, she needs help.

A few hours (days idk) later, once she's been tended and has rested enough to address the tablet, she does so, turning on the voice feature this time, though she's camped out on her couch.

"Hey, Taxon. Life is kinda crazy, huh?" She gave a soft, nervous laugh. "Just wanted to let you all know I'm fine. Just had a little tumble out of bed, but it's all fine now."

Actually, it isn't. She can't remember anything about what happened, just a few new memories of home and then waking up here. That's all. And it bothers her.

"Oh, and hey, has anyone heard from Katherine Pierce lately? Y'know... worried aunt here. Kinda hoping she went home." For many reasons.

She'll be camped out in a guest room for a while, until this wound she can't remember getting heals.

[ ooc: jenna's canon update finally! feel free to tag in before or after she's rescued, but she won't respond until long after. rescue crew, you can feel free to tag without jenna, as she won't be able to respond. the wound is a very deep stab wound in her stomach. and she's up for being bugged in person once she wakes up again :3 ]

longaevus

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.

theextras

It has been a week (or so) give or take of harrowing adventures for those citizens unfortunate enough to have been caught up the project's bad code. Fortunately, the aliens have worked out a solution of sorts.

The time has come to find your door and open it, meander your very simple maze of servers and blinking technological wizardry, report your findings, and then emerge back in the "real" city for touching reunions and all the free drinks ever.

ooc: IC plot wrapping! tag in, tag enough other, puzzle out mysteries and propose ridiculous theories. as usual you can backtag the event until the crack of doom.

thornandmoss

Briar buried each of his hands in a jar of the temple's medicine supply, green energy flowing from his fingers into the dried plants. The medicines were due for a renewal, and this would double their strength. They would be needed.

The Yanxing emperor had decided his empire was not vast enough, and his troops were coming. A temple might be a terrible thing to target, but it was a strategically sound one. Living Circle temples were centers for mages and healers, and they would be as vital to the defense of Gyongxe as civilian militia. Briar's first priority was always Rosethorn and Evvy, but doing everything he could to help temple mages and healers survive the onslaught came in a close second. Time was limited, and he set aside his current jars to move on to the next pair.

Bells rang, a warning rather than a call to service. Briar's head snapped up. Extending his magic through the network of plants in and around the temple, Briar withdrew as several of them died. The temple was burning. Where were Rosethorn and Evvy?

Briar ran toward the fires rather than away, keeping an eye out for Rosethorn's familiar green magic as he went. She would always be where she could do the most good, unless she were looking out for someone. He stopped very briefly to pull a jar of burn salve and three cloth-wrapped balls of thorn seeds from the kit slung over his back, then broke into a sprint. He had to find them.

smecker

He was being careful. Really he was.

He had seen the broadcast by Glitch and the vampire guy, he had understood. Don't do stupid crap, don't go dumb places off on your own, stick together.

Paul had been on his way to go find Wyatt-- a walk he'd done a hundred times, knew every step of it, it wasn't too far-- and planned on waiting out the latest hamster-initiated hell with the person he trusted most in Taxon. That had been the plan.

“Smecker! Oi, Smecker! Wait up!”

( Voices he'd been waiting )

The tablet broadcast the sounds of gunfire, sharp retorts, curses in Irish and Boston accents both, cries of pain. And then the sound of running, running, good shoes driving along the pavement and Smecker's breathing rasping and heavy.

[OOC: erm, very belatedly, but THIS POST HAS SUPER VIOLENCE AND GORE, plz be warned]

blue_bird

Illyria stood in the pouring rain. Her hair--dirty strands of blue and brown--stuck to her face and neck, like leeches. The weather was only real to her. Just another symptom. But the water poured, all the same. It fell in silver threads of silk against a black sky and gathered in muddy puddles on the street, a putrid mix of excrement and blood. It had not been her will to come here, just as it had not been her will to be drawn to Taxon. To be coerced from blissful sleep to a world she did not belong in--such was her miserable fate. She tired of it.

"Halfbreed." The word left her mouth in an angry snarl through bared teeth, and nearly became lost in the rain and long, despairing howl of the wind. "I have found your hell. It smells of death, and sour meat." Beneath her feet lay a body, bloodied and broken, of the man who had once been her guide. The tablet's eyes moved with her as she knelt down beside him, and it glimpsed Illyria in a way it never had. Her eyes were wide and still, her mouth pursed, but the movement of her hand was gentle. "I have no wish to be here any longer," she continued in a softer voice.

She looked up from the lifeless body of Wesley Windham Pryce, and all at once it seemed to vanish into the ground. Something lingered in her blue eyes. Illyria did not like this place. The death did not bother her--the crumbling statues, the sounds of violence and clashing of iron, the screams hidden in the wind. Such was the way of a carnival of horrors, meant to entertain all but its subjects. But she was hunted, here. Prey to those she once ruled, prey to those who were once below her. She lingered in no place for long.

They were fast.

allthatlife

Although she could have used Project Indigo to get to the Sanctuary immediately, Martha knew how Jack felt about that particular piece of technology. It was probably best to introduce him to the city before she gave him something else to worry about. Besides, her surgery was so close to the centre of the city that the walk would only take a few minutes.

Or it would have taken a few minutes if she'd managed to complete it.

She wasn't far from her destination when she heard another familiar voice calling her name. Despite the frequent difficulties in their relationship and despite the length of time that had elapsed since she'd seen him, it was a voice that she responded to instinctively.

"... Doctor?"

If Jack hadn't arrived in Taxon only moments before, she might have been more skeptical. Or maybe she wanted him to be there so much that she'd always throw caution to the wind? Either way, she followed the sound of his voice until she was well and truly lost.

By the time Martha realised her mistake, it was too late. The buildings around her seemed to have changed. They were derelict, marked with laser burns and rust red patches of dried blood. A rat scurried past her feet and, as she turned to follow it's path, she saw that the way back was blocked by a heap of broken bricks. She could see shadows and hear the low murmur of human voices - someone was crying, but nobody had the strength or the will to comfort him - behind the boarded up windows. She knew exactly where she was before she reached the end of the ruined street and caught sight of the vast munitions loading bay and weapons factories.

This was the end of the world. This was the year that had never happened and should never have happened again.

Martha Jones would have to walk the Earth again.

This time, she'd have to do it without a plan and without a perception filter to shield her from the toclafane.