taxonomites | Entries tagged with { river tam

patternal.livejournal.com

He of all people really should have known better, thinking nothing was going to happen to him just because it hadn’t yet. There was that temptation to just stay in his room and not go anywhere, but that, apparently, wasn’t working out too well for people either. Ending up with strange bedpartners wasn’t exactly a new occurrence in his life, but surprise ones were a little lower on the ladder of enjoyment. He very much preferred remembering putting them there.

As it was, he would always be restless, always have that wanderlust. Even if he couldn’t leave the city, he could at least try and slake the thirst for it by wandering to the edges of the cage and back, even if he would only come back angry. Trapped inside by glass walls. Aimless attempts at an escape that he had honestly given up on long ago, even if he tried to keep up appearances.

Today, though, it seemed that fickle lady Fate had other plans. He had stopped paying attention to the living dolls that he walked past about the time he figured out that they distinctly lacked in the personality department, but as he walked past a rather imposing iron gate, he caught a glimpse of that girl that he’d seen dancing however long ago it was. He nodded once, but he wasn’t really in the mood to talk, and kept right on going—

—until he was jerked back by something in the vicinity of his wrist. Chain. Perfect. To the girl on the other side of the gate. Even better. As much as he was far strong than the average mortal, he had his doubts about moving that piece of metal.

“...goddammit.”

((This took way too long to get up and I apologize. Feel free to ambush him anywhere on the street, too~))

ironfright.livejournal.com

Puck was angrier than he could recall being in a long time. He had settled so well into a familiar groove of apathy that it was hard to shake him loose from it. But certain things had and without acknowledging (or understanding, his mind kept insisting) why, he was taking out his feelings in the most destructive way possible.

Which meant that he'd hatched a dozen bottles of assorted alcohol and started downing them. After about the fourth one, he'd gotten it into his head to take to the street and start venting on whatever was nearby and breakable. Storefront windows, signposts, mailboxes, anything that was conveniently in reach to a very drunken fae was subject to Puck's kicks, punches, and hurled objects. The only thing being thrown around more than impromptu projectiles were obscenities, which were flowing as freely as the liquor.

[ OOC: Basically Puck is just staggering around the city making a complete drunken ass of himself. Do with him what you will! ]

disparage

Something is wrong.

Caroline tries to wrap her arm underneath her pillow, expecting to kick Bonnie’s leg and knee Elena in the back, but she feels nothing on either side of her or underneath her head. “Bonnie? Elena?” she says it sleepily, expecting to get an elbow in the back for talking. “Where’s m’pillow?” She frowns, her eyes still closed, and begins to realise that she’s no longer wrapped in the warm sheets of her bed but lying on a cool, hard surface in her pyjamas.

She bolts straight up, rubbing a hand furiously over her face to wipe the sleep from her eyes and from her limbs, and takes in the room she’s woken up in. Her heart hammers inside her chest. This wasn’t like the cage the werewolves had stuck her in—what with the lack of bars and Brady sitting outside her little cell, pointing a gun in her direction and firing without blinking—as it was expanse, bare, and circular.

That still didn’t mean there weren’t any werewolves.

Caroline tries to stand up straight, bracing herself for the bullets or vervain. She takes in deep breaths, trying to see something within the room that will give someone away—or give her something to fight back with—when she looks down and notices the bracelet on her wrist. Her attention now on the bracelet, she frowns and tries to pry it off, only to have her fingers slip over it. “What the hell is this thing?” Exasperated. What kind of sick joke was this? Hadn’t she been taunted enough?

Her fingers were still trying to pry the bracelet off her wrist as she looked around. “Stefan? Elena?” Surely Stefan would know, right? He was the walking encyclopedia of fangs. Inhaling deeply, she looks around the room once more, looking for anything when she notices a pedestal a few feet away from the platform she’s currently standing on. Biting her lip, she takes a few tentative steps towards the stairs, looking for any oncoming bullets or surprises that may be sent her way.

Nothing came.

Feeling a touch bolder, she speeds up her pace by a second, hesitantly approaching the pedestal and frowning at the tablet sitting upon it. She didn’t dare touch it, her fingers slipping over her bracelet as she tried to peel it off during her walk towards it. “What is this thing?” She isn’t sure what she is referring to, exactly, but with another second frowning at the tablet, Caroline turns her back and takes a few steps back towards the platform. There has to be a way out. She continues to glance around the room, fingers eventually coming to a halt with fiddling with the bracelet.

Taking in a deep breath, Caroline let go of her other wrist and tried to calm down. “Okay, Caroline, this isn’t as bad as it can be. It’s just a rabbit hole I’ve fallen down. Not one I’ve been put into by a pack of fur who have nothing else to do during the month.” That was a touch comforting, at least.

Despite that, her heart still hammers wildly in her chest. Some rabbit hole this is.

Current Mood: scared

poisonousparty.livejournal.com

While he isn't one to complain when Draculoids suddenly vanish with a blink of an eye, especially when they're about to end his life, Party Poison doesn't exactly like the new environment, either. Namely, what could have caused said new environment.

( One moment he was by Route Guano with BL/ind. after him (and everyone else), speeding out of control as a lacky shot out their tires, and Party still remembered how damn jarring it was to have to jump out of the window of his very own car. )

selfmadman

A skyscraper vanishes. It's autumn—a painter's autumn, the leaves ablaze with color and wind whipping through the streets—the day Don takes the tram to Luthor Plaza and finds a misshapen warehouse with a banner announcing HAWAIIAN BBQ sagging over the entrance. He steps inside still anticipating lobby, elevators, a purposeful bustle. The greasy tang of barbecue enfolds him.

That night he wakes sweating on the hotel bed. He strips and showers but a sticky heat stays in the air. He pours himself a drink (number five, number one), switches on the air conditioner, and watches the ice in his glass melt to slivers. Imagines a building evaporating.

He gets out his tablet and in the lamp's dim glow looks at the map. The dots scattered over it are still. He remembers opening the door to Sally and Bobby's room, slipping out of the hall's harsh light into darkness. Back then they'd slept with intense concentration and complete trust.

Don turns off the tablet, finishes his drink. He clicks off the lamp and rolls onto his stomach. Sleep settles lightly over him until suddenly he recoils from it, grabbing for the tablet and knocking the glass to the floor.

At Mattie's apartment he opens every drawer, every cabinet, moving with deliberation born of panic. He stops when he finds the coin. He slumps down onto the bed, a California gold piece in the palm of his hand. It's a long time before his fingers close around it.

When he leaves the sun is rising. Grass that yesterday was brown and brittle has sprung back to life. Trees are green. It's gonna be a hot one.

He types out a message—Mattie Ross is gone—and heads for the office.

ooc: Slightly backdated and stuff.

comprehender.livejournal.com

It's hot. Really really hot, and River isn't used to it in the slightest. Wasn't it snowing a few days ago? Does it matter?

Even prone to a certain level of sleep paranoia (thanks, alien abduction), she's been catching naps during the hottest parts of the day if only because it's too hot to do much of anything else. She did not expect to wake up from one of these naps in a cushy bed with her tablet on.

In a cushy bed with a lukewarm person in it next to her.

She turns, slow and tense, to see if she's somehow woken up to a new adventure in dead bodies when she suddenly recognizes who it is.

What was panic a few moments ago is now pure, unadulterated frustration.

"You have got to be kidding me." A beat passes with a sigh and the jingling of an inspected chain. "At least we aren't getting electrocuted."

The sound of that particular voice snaps him into immediate consciousness, and Angel looks over at the girl lying next to him, then down at the chain linking their wrists.

"...they should've killed that hamster."

River just rolls her eyes. And so it begins.

eggplantgout.livejournal.com

[Jason is in what used to be Sookie's house next door, sitting at the kitchen table. He looks confused and guilty, like he had committed a serious offense but can't remember what it is though he is determined to make up for it.]

Sook's gone. Like, taken by the aliens and won't be back no more gone. Loki's still gone too.

All the people I know best keep disappearing. What am I doin' wrong by the city?

flochart.livejournal.com

"Say, why's this thing so empty?"

Flo, the newest alien on the Taxon Board of Affairs (there is no board of affairs, she just finds amusement in abbreviating it TBA), is making a personal visit to Taxon today. As in, in person. She's got the suggestions box in her hands, lifted from it's hook on the wall. It's upside down and she's shaking it, expecting something to come out. She even holds it up above her head to peer inside, just to be sure.

Nope. Nothing.

"I doubt you guys don't have any suggestions for us," she says to the tablet, directly to the screen. Yes, citizens of Taxon, she means you. "From what I hear, you want a lot of things. Mittens cried for days after that whole ordeal."

The hamster's name is not Mittens. That won't stop her from calling him that, though.

Have something to say, Taxon? The wonky weather, the ties that bind (literally), etc. Say it! Flo's here and she's ready to listen.

entractes.livejournal.com

For a good amount of time now, Kurt has been without his tablet. This was fine when he was trying to keep to himself after things took a sour turn in the sanctuary some time back. Now that he needed it again, he had made several trips back to the building in hopes of finding it (to no avail). But he had things to accomplish and, with the city suddenly having rearranged itself, things were easier to go at alone instead of helplessly meandering a sea of halls for a handheld.

Trying to make people come to music has always been pretty fruitless. Though things may have been different in a new setting, one attempt was all that was needed to prove otherwise. Instead, he was just going to bring music to people. Plus it potentially could draw out some people who could help track down his tablet.

So in his usual bullheaded, over the top way, Kurt spent much effort wrangling the band from his auditorium into co-operating with him ( and in the process, discovered making them play with feeling was just not going to happen. ) in spontaneous street performing in the middle of central Taxon. And a performance by Kurt Hummel is not complete without dressing up in something outlandish (sans the bomber because it is summer and that is silly).

He straightens his vest nervously and takes a deep breath before cueing the band to start then jumping in and belting Some People. He can see this failing fantastically, but he's. Going to try regardless.

aintnoconvict

When Glitch awoke, he knew the following: that he was in Taxon, in the palace, in his own room, in his own bed, his limbs were comfortably entangled with DG's, his right shoulder ached a bit but that was typical and would fade as the day went on, and that there was a lengthy list of things he wanted to accomplish. When plans for how to organize and execute that list started to come together he realized that knowing all of this was highly unusual.

( Then he remembered (very very clearly) the type-sender and the lobster container and the generator and the bargain with the hamster and gasped. )

Sometime later he was in the kitchen, having whipped up a massive kettle of muglug, and switched on the tablet to tell the rest of the city the news. "Hello everyone, it's--"

Oh dear, who was he? He knew without even having to think about it that his name was Ambrose Evedward Langwe but it didn't feel quite right, not un-earned just not...right. He recalled what he'd sung when the city'd been infused with music, the once muted, hazy memory now mostly clear. Must I choose, Glitch or Ambrose--

"Or something in between those, now I've finally got my-- whoops, that was out loud." He laughed and shook his head. "The technical difficulties settle it: it's Glitch, just one hundred percent brainier. It's one of those 'woke up different' things so we'll see how long it lasts. Just wanted to give you all a head's up."

Yep, claim it's a glitch and carry on, that was all he could do. Well, that and send a quick private text to Brennan:

Hello Temperance. Is there any way you could do a favor for me?

ooc - item petition: complete! I'll bash together an post on the OOC comm (ETA:HERE!) detailing what I think this is all going to mean. Good times.

faderbroderson

The tablet switched on when Godric flipped Faith over in bed, his bared fangs a marked contrast to the playful, lusty grin that displayed them. He laughed as Faith swore at him, grinning and laughing herself, all teeth and fire. She sought to overpower him, and after some struggling that could better be called mutual groping, he allowed it. She straddled his hips victoriously, rocking them together, Godric's hands moving to hold her waist. The bunched duvet and piles of furs concealed a lot from view, but Faith's breasts were proudly bared for the camera.

Someone might want to tell them this isn't a private event anymore, not that they'll be particularly bothered.

[OOC: Uh, porn warning goes here, obviously. THERE IS PORN IN HERE, OK. :>]

ironfright.livejournal.com

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

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

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

---

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

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

comprehender.livejournal.com

She hadn't minded the city's change, not even having to go from one end to the other between the zoo and Serenity, or the extra miles between all her other haunts. The space between did a lot to alleviate and distract from the claustrophobia of two years in captivity weighing on her shoulders, two years of people leaving, two years of Not Much Changing.

But of course, days of Not Much Changing can't last forever.

The tablet clicks on (convenient as ever) just as River wakes up in her bunk, looking a little younger than she did yesterday. It catches the slow realization that she isn't where she thought she'd be, the look of suspicious horror as she looks down at herself and examines her surroundings, and the subtle shift from surprise to fearful anger.

"Simon?"

River isn't moving to get out of that bed, not yet. Not until she knows what's going on, and if Simon doesn't answer her she might never get out, and the more everything stays quiet the louder that keen edge of fear becomes very apparent in her voice.

"You know, discussing the history of post-migration piracy with you didn't mean I'd think you putting me on a ship like this in my sleep would be funny." Pause. Wait for a response and get nothing. Try again. "Because it really isn't."

Okay, one more time, a little louder. Cursing should usually be done with a little more oomph than this, especially when attempting to taunt someone out of hiding, but a vaguely angry sounding, "Qīngwā cào de liúmáng," is all she can manage before the tablet clicks itself back off.

[ ooc: GLITCH TIMES! details and plottings can be had in the sott thread over yonder. and lo, let there be horrors.

translation | frog-humping jerk ]

gotcouplings.livejournal.com

The Frye House kitchen seems to be going full steam. There's a tea pot on the stove, baking supplies spread out over the counter, and one mechanic bustling about in the middle of it all. She's a lot more cheerful now than she was a year ago, when systems were shutting down and they were all suffocating. Definitely a better day, and by far a better birthday (even with people going home).

She smiles down at her tablet, raising a spatula covered with pink cake batter in greeting. "I'd like to invite anybody who wants to come by the ranch for a little party tonight. The weather's nice enough for it, and there'll be snacks and drinks aplenty for anybody who wants 'em. Don't gotta bring anythin' special, just yourself. Seems like a shiny day for having a get-together without us all bein' stuck in the same building."

Invitation standing, she gives the tablet another grin, then turns it off as she sets back to work. It's a good distraction, and even if nobody shows up there will probably be plenty of citizens who walk out of their door to find baskets of goodies in the morning.

The tablet switches itself back on just in time to catch Kaylee humming the last few bars of 'Happy Birthday to You.'

[[ OoC: No seriously, party post, get your butts in here and mingle!! ]]

tothelibrary.livejournal.com

[ it's something of a tradition, albeit one that declined as things in taxon sped up and spun out of control; dawn and river dancing ballet together. being as they're all stuck and in pajamas now, there's no better time to revive it than the present.

they're mid-dancing when dawn's tablet clicks on and so the rest of hotel california is treated to the sounds of whatever technically non-ballet aligned music dawn is blaring at the moment, and the sight of two tiny trolls re-introducing themselves to dancing together.

dawn wobbles on a turn and stops, laughing, as river continues triumphantly. ] You've gotten better and I haven't. [ she tries again and hits it this time, not quite as graceful as river but solid. when she stops, she sticks out her tongue. ] You're still a show-off.

( ooc: all replies will likely be trolled by both the tiny ones, ftr. )

allthefunever.livejournal.com

[ after a long night, damon didn't have the energy-- or honestly, the desire-- to kick stefan out. it's been a hard, keeping to their self-imposed separation. damon's used to being able to track stefan down whenever he feels like; having his brother firmly back at katherine's side has put awkwardness where previously there was none.

so his tablet turns on the a view of stefan and damon in bed together, reconnecting in a quintessentially salvatore way, remembering the patterns they'd once gone through as easily as breathing.

...one thing in the pattern damon forgot, however: stefan is a horrible bed hog. all the covers are wrapped around stefan and he's sprawled out, limbs all akimbo; damon is towards the edge, one leg almost entirely off the bed. the feed would close on them asleep like that, but damon shifts, and almost falls out of bed; flailing out with one arm, he catches himself and sits up, glaring over at stefan with a fondness he can't hide. ]

You always were one to steal the blankets. [ a smirk steals over his face, and he grabs a corner of the sheets currently wrapped around his brother and yanks, sending stefan tumbling onto the floor. over the sound of his indignant howl, damon leans over the edge of the bed and grins. ] Oops.

[ the feed closes on stefan's hand reaching up to grab damon's shoulder and then and pulling, and the thud of damon hitting the floor himself. ]

faderbroderson

The first thing Godric notices when he wakes, before he opens his eyes, is that he's fully clothed. He can feel the fabric snug against his skin, and that is a very unusual thing. Godric, as a rule, sleeps in the nude. It's also disturbing to note, when he opens his eyes with a frown, that he isn't in his room. He isn't even in his house, or in Faith's house, or Sookie's, or any house he recognizes.

That's enough to have him rising from the bed very quickly, which to human eyes would look rather like teleportation, if it weren't for the discarded sheets fluttering down to fold back onto the bed. A frown mars his brow as he looks around for any indication of what the hell has just gone on.

His eyes alight on the tablet, conveniently recording already, and he makes a movement that might have been a sigh, had he any breath. He picks it up off the nightstand and looks at the screen wryly.

"I should be accustomed to this."

entractes.livejournal.com

Kurt's explorations finally bring him to the 11th floor! Took long enough. After spending some time just acclimating to the new stage area, he is hit with something of a wonderful idea.

"Attention, Taxon!"

Needless to say, Kurt was excited.

"As you are all probably well aware, none of us appear to be going anywhere anytime soon. But don't despair, I have a solution to the doubtlessly growing boredom of you being stuck here." He turns the tablet around to pan the camera around the stage area as he talks. "Since coming here, I couldn't help but notice that the city is a little bit of a cultural deadzone, but I know there are at least a couple of diamonds in the rough out there. So, I propose..." he pauses as he often does for the sake of tension, "Taxon's very own glee club."

He turns the camera back to himself, "Not to worry, this won't be the stuffy, uptight choir group you may have heard about at your local church. Instead, this will be an opportunity to express yourself, to let loose, and experience something wonderful. For those who don't perform, you are more than welcome to watch or sway along merrily in the background.

"So, if you would care to join me, Kurt Hummel, in the 11th floor Playhouse, let's get some introductions going. In lieu of just standing around in a circle and talking about ourselves, you would ideally come ready with a song that you feel tells your story and be ready to sing. No pressure, though." He totally understands if you aren't like him and don't always have that sort of thing ready to belt out at a moment's notice.

eventextras.livejournal.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

aintnoconvict

Glitch was knee-deep in snapdragons, stepping carefully between the plants and surveying them with a serene smile. In his left hand he held a riotous bouquet of flowers: narcissus and tulip and lily and and daisy and a spray of forget-me-not. He carried a delicate pair of scissors in his right hand, and once he spotted a violet-blue snapdragon he knelt to claim it for his collection, snipping it far down on the stem.

'Thank you,' he tried to tell the plant, but no sound came out. Glitch gasped and dropped his bouquet along with the scissors to clap his hands over his ears. 'Hello? Oh gods I can't I can't-'

He shot to his feet and looked around frantically, and noticed the silent Extra children playing in a nearby fountain, and beyond them one of the city trams rumbling by with a jaunty ring of its bell. With a sigh he lowered his hands and pulled his tablet from his pocket, frowning when it defaulted to text

'This is weird,' he mouthed, then cringed, then read over the recent transmissions in all their diverse languages and took out the tablet's stylus to add some English to the mix. Or so he hoped.

{ Hello, it's Glitch and I can only }- What he'd meant to say was understand English but what he was writing looked like primitive hieroglyphics. The last place he'd seen writing like that was on the wall of a cave back in the O.Z., and he'd had no idea what it meant then either.

{ DG? Cain? Can either of you read this? }

ooc: backdated to Sunday! Everything bolded is in the Picture Language Of The Ancients, which he is very quickly going to drop via actually typing instead of writing freehand.