[identity profile] tothelibrary.livejournal.com
Taxon goes through phases, Dawn knows that. Other than Kirk, Faith, River, and technically-- if you base it on entrance date instead of longevity-- Dean, she's the person who's been around the longest, so she really knows. Person A goes, Person B enters. Person A comes back, with or without memories. Eventually, Person B leaves too. There's not so much a pattern-- at least, not an obvious one based on anything even resembling time-- but the fact that there are cycles are obvious, once you figure everything out.

It's December again, and last year that meant-- things, things she's not dealing with right now (or ever) thanks very much. This year it means Dawn's unsettled, uncertain. And with so many of the new people actually... doing things, like grown-up police tv things about law and order and trying to figure things out, not just rebelling by stealing your clothes because you're really annoyed with everything. Maybe Dawn is getting complacent. Maybe that's part of the plan around here, grind the people who will just settle in and live down until Taxon becomes normal. Routine.

Well, from now on the hamsters picked the wrong person on that score. Kirk was talking about that guide and welcoming committee, and that Sam guy asked for names... if they can step up, Dawn might as well deal with her emo and restlessness by doing what she does best.

Which means a trip to the nearest hatch to grab new pens and four packs of brightly colored index cards, and on a whim a collection of neon topped push-pins. Time to take a page from Andrew's playbook and make a Board. The kind of board that houses Very Important Information.

When her tablet turns on, Dawn's been hard at work for a couple hours and the sky outside her window is getting dark. The board is mostly covered, index cards with things like "Glitches", "Dates", "Returning Players Part One (With Memories)", "Returning Players Part Two (Without Memories)", and "Hamsters????" written in clear, large letters, the cards crowding in and overlapping each other, Dawn's neat handwriting tidy and small beneath each larger title. One card in the middle only has four names, in numbered order one to four: James Kirk, River Tam, Faith Lehane, Dawn Summers. There's smaller writing off to the side, but it's too small to read from anywhere but up close. Something quiet and recognizably indie pop plays softly in the background and Dawn takes a step back to look at the board with no small amount of satisfaction.

"Okay. It's not translating stupidly rigid ancient prophecies, but whatever. Take that, hamsters." Turning back to her desk to grab a sip of soda, she spots the recording light on her tablet and rolls her eyes, bringing a hand up to shove at the hair falling in her face. "Oh my God, really? Ugh." She takes a long sip of Coke, then offers the tablet a half-hearted wave. "Hi, people randomly catching this broadcast. Sorry about the whole... reality tv slash Pay-Per-View of boring research things, don't mind me. No seriously, don't. I'm in the gathering stage, it's uber-nerdy and boring. Also, I kind of have this feeling the hamsters watch-- anyway. Sorry for being geeky all over you guys, have a nice day." Glancing at the window, she amends, "Night, I mean."

She presses the button to end the feed, shaking her head and already turning back to stare at the board.

[ ooc | in and out due to christmas stuff, but i needed to get this up sob! still backtagging faith and damon i swear. ]
[identity profile] srsbusinessk.livejournal.com
Thump thump, thump thump.

Blood, coursing through his veins loud and clear, pressure building in every atom of his being and Sam can't tell if it's from adrenaline or the demon blood, or maybe a horrible combination of the two.

Thump thump, thump thump.

It's not like he's scared. Werewolves, vampires, ghosts; he's faced more monsters than he can count for longer than he can remember, but this? One on one face off with the Devil?

Thump thump, thump thump.

Despite his steadily beating heart, Sam is not scared. They'd fought for this for months; they'd died for it, and friends sacrificed themselves for it. This isn't just his fight, it's all of theirs. And there isn't anything that could stop him from seeing it through to the end.

Thump thump, thump thump.

No, he isn't scared. Not one bit. He doesn't have time for it. "We don't have any other choice. Yes."

Thumpthump, thumpthump--

And there's an impossibly bright light. Sam's waiting for it, the impact, the explosion, the pain and heat and darkness that is possession, but it never comes. There's nothing. In fact, he just feels...cold? He opens his eyes and there's metal, only metal and electronics like he's never seen before. It doesn't make sense, it's wrong, and all that suppressed fear comes flooding in like a river.

Thumpthump, thumpthump.

Sam jumps off of the strange platform and down to what looks like it could be a door, pounding on it in a panic. "Cas, get me outta here! We don't have time for this! Castiel!" He stops his shouting, and exhales shortly, "Dean."

Thumpthumpthumpthump.

Dean. If he's here, that means Dean is - with Lucifer, alone. Panic, fucking panic, and Sam starts looking around the room for a way out. He's better than this, smarter than this, so he needs to calm the fuck down and figure this out.

Thump thump, thump thump.

There's a...phone? No, not quite. Something similar, maybe, and Sam walks over to it warily. He hesitantly picks it up and notices - it's on? Shakily, unsure, "Can..can anyone hear me?" He feels particularly foolish, but he's desperate and it's the best option he sees right now. "I have to get out of here. I have to find my brother. Please."

He doesn't have time for fear.
aworldenchanted: (hiding)
[personal profile] aworldenchanted
Tara's had her first full day back at work. It was quiet, and calming, and she feels a little better for having something to do. She's been working on herbs, magical and mundane, principally for Morgana, who she genuinely hopes is healing herself. She hasn't looked up Morgana (or Cordelia or Rose) yet, giving them a bit of space and taking some for herself. Still, she's getting the shop back in order, expanding the inventory, and trying not to think about the fact she hasn't felt her magic since Sam had told her she could let go. It would come back - she just had to wait and trust it.

And if it didn't... she'd survive. Maybe a little broken, but she'd hang in there. There was a lot a person could learn to live with, if they have to.

She locks up and starts to head for home. She feels like walking; there's a small current of fear that doesn't leave her these days, but being around Extras is worse than walking by herself. It's a nice enough evening, a little cloudy and not too hot, and she could use the exercise, now that she feels stronger.

Of course, this is all lovely until the glitch hits.

Suddenly, Tara looks terrified. She doesn't know where she is, or how she got here, but she knows she is not where she is supposed to be. This is so very, very bad.

She fumbles through her pockets and finds a thing that looks sort of like a phone. She presses "talk," and says, "H-hello? Is a-anyone t-there?" Her stutter is thick, and her voice is quiet despite the panic; if she were less panicked, she would never dare to just talk on a strange phone, but when her family notices her gone, bad things will happen. And if anyone here finds out what she is -

- she needs to go home. Right away.
[identity profile] rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com
The Doctor hatched a set of handcuffs. They were for him to use. The last time he'd let someone else restrain the Master, the Doctor had held him, still in restraints, as he died. That wouldn't happen this time. The Doctor would save him. Somehow.

Everything was ready. It was just time to move forward.





OOC: Final post for the Master's plot! Everything is in individual threads and threadhopping is encouraged. If you see that this needs another plotty starter thread, drop me a line and let me know!

EDIT: I was requested to put up a note letting everybody know that this is a backdated post.
[identity profile] a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com
It was time.

Drusilla had been waiting patiently – for the right moon and the right moment and, most importantly of all, the right people – and, at long last, it was time.

Little lamb, little lamb
My birthday is here at last!
Little fish, little fish
Do you think I'll get my wish?
Little lamb, little lamb
I wonder how old I am ..?


Centuries and centuries. It didn’t matter. She’d made her wish and Miss Edith was already on her way. A hundred birthday gifts – a thousand! – couldn’t mean more to her than that.

The vampire stayed close to the shadows. Not because she needed to, no, but because the darkness was soft and familiar. The sleeping city rippled with anticipation. Something was happening. It had started with the Extras, though they hadn’t – wouldn’t – harm Drusilla. Unlike the rest of the residents, she was moving with purpose and determination, encouraged by the hamsters and aided by the stars. They guided her footsteps, telling her who to seek and how to find them.

The first one would be easy. His name had been on the tip of her tongue since she’d spoken to the hamsters. He was so lonely. The loneliest man in any world. He’d be delighted to see a familiar face, wouldn’t he? Just for a little while? His hearts – two of them, which would make sure a mess if his throat was ever slit – hammered with the need for love and attention.

She didn’t know the others, not really. Just their faces. Just their faces and wishes that called to her across the city.

That was more than enough.

OOC: Open to the unfortunate lucky individuals who are about to benefit from Drusilla’s sudden surge of charitable feeling. There is also a fresh heart in a box on Ruby's desk. Good luck with that?
[identity profile] rubinuslapis.livejournal.com
Ruby looks worse for the wear, and exhausted. She's more than pissed off, demonstrated by her slumping violently into her office chair, and now she slams one of her drawers shut. She sits in silence for a minute or so, and just as she's realizing her folly (feeling strong emotions and giving the fucking hamsters a chance to make her embarrass herself over it) she's already swept up in it, moving to the window and parting the blinds to peer out like the creeper she is. Anyone watching on the tablet might see it turn black and white, just for her little performance.

♫"Taxon is bare
No gloom or mis'ry anywhere
Stormy weather
Just can't get my idiot Sam together
He's whining all the time
The time
He just whines all the time.

Since I got away
Lilith's been gunning for me
If Sam stays lame
Ol' Alistair will get me
All I do is stalk
Hope that Sam will let me
Knock his ass into shape."♫


Stormy Weather continues... )
[identity profile] likeajoan.livejournal.com
It's not the first time Buffy's woken up with a shiny new set of memories, but the other times haven't been like this. The other times she hadn't found out that she's a monster. A vampire. A thing.

Losing her powers for two months, the ordeal with Angelus, losing Dean, going through that cruel glitch with Ethan, losing Giles for the second time... the combined weight of the past year spent in Taxon is finally beginning to take its toll on her, and in epic fashion.

Which is why she's decided to take matters into her own hands. Literally. Anyone looking up at the sky will see an odd, vaguely discernible blur, flying into an invisible barrier, impacting hard and then bouncing off again, only to repeat the action. Over and over. She's trying to break through the wall, and it isn't working.


[ooc: canon bump to issue #33, but before the big Twilight reveal. Gonna be slowtagging on this one due to hiatus, but there we go. ALSO she has her tablet with her, so is contactable.]
[identity profile] notabuymoron.livejournal.com
John Casey cranks one eyelid open.

It isn't often that he naps on the job, but sometimes listening to Bartowski drone on and on about desert island scenarios and top ten sci fi babes of all time just make him want to drift off to snooze-land. He shifts upright, becoming fully alert and realizing immediately that he isn't sitting in his lazy-boy chair anymore, or in his apartment with the usual surveillance equipment around him. Even his dish of butterscotch pudding is gone.

Instead he finds himself on a raised platform, in a room with no visible doors or windows, clutching one of his bonsai trees to his chest. Correction: his favorite bonsai tree.

“What the hell?”

Casey scowls and sets the plant down carefully on the steps, then sweeps his gaze warily around the circular room. Looks like some kind of holding cell.

He tests out that theory by trying to find an opening in the wall. Anything which he can exploit. When that doesn't work, he resorts to some cursory bellowing, fist pounding, shoulder ramming and kicking at that self same wall. That doesn't do much of anything, either.

“Huh.”

It's logical to assume that he's been abducted, but how come he can't remember a damned thing? He doesn't feel like he's been knocked out, shocked or drugged into unconsciousness for transport and he's had enough experience with all three of the above to be able to tell.

And what is this band of metal around his wrist? It seems fused there, like it's been grafted on, but wouldn't that kind of medical procedure take time and a hell of a lot of drugs?

Casey moves back up the steps and stares down at the tablet which has been sitting there the whole time, but he's been purposefully ignoring. Looks like some kind of communications device. He picks it up and studies it, frowning. It's obviously been left there for him to use.

He's tempted to smash the gadget into a million itty bitty little pieces. How would they like them apples? He isn't a fan of cooperating with the enemy.

But...maybe he can do some information gathering of his own if he can get the bastards who've taken him to respond back to him. He sits himself down on the top step and pushes what he presumes is the activation button.

“If this is Fulcrum's idea of a torture slash interrogation chamber, I've gotta tell ya, you guys are seriously slipping here. No wonder we've been kicking your ass like it's going out of business. Repeat after me: Blunt, Sharp, Cold, Hot, Loud. And that's only if you don't have any imagination.”

A cold sardonic kind of smile comes to his lips for a moment. Then Casey leans forward, his voice dropping to a low menacing whisper.

“I don't like being abducted and incarcerated against my will. It tends to make me cranky, and you wouldn't like me when I'm cranky. Whatever intel you're hoping to get from me, or plans you have to turn me, forget it.” He gives a mirthless snort. “I'd rather gnaw off my own arm than betray my country. So. You might as well let me go now before I find my own way out of here, track down whoever the hell you people are and open up a world of pain on all of your asses.”
[identity profile] freezecharm.livejournal.com
The visual starts and reveals Piper, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows and her hands deep into sudsy waters, busily scrubbing pots and pans. She's never been one to sing while doing anything, but somehow when she's working the urge to do so hits her, and the tablet, naturally, picks it up.

You can do a lot when you've got such a happy working tune to hum
While you're sponging up the soapy scum
We adore each filthy chore that we determine
So friends, even though you're vermin--


...that's when she stops, brows drawn together. "Vermin?" Piper repeats, clearly dumbstruck. "Where did that come from?"

Shaking her head, she glances at the tablet - and notices that it's broadcasting. "Damn it," she says, wiping her hands on her apron and grabbing the device, intent on turning it off.

Piper then reconsiders. She clears her throat - nervous all of a sudden. Prue's the one good with speaking in public, after all. "Uh - hi," she starts. "To those of you who don't know me, I'm Piper Halliwell. I, uh-- I'm about to open a restaurant in Wilde - it's called Quake, and I've already got the name displayed outside so you can't miss it. So, um... if you want to eat gourmet-style food at reasonable prices, then... then come visit?"

She cringes, then shuts the tablet off - vowing never to do that ever again.
[identity profile] likeajoan.livejournal.com
Buffy is currently walking on the beach. It's night-time and the waves are crashing restlessly against the sand in the background. There are a few Extras hanging around without much of a purpose - that is until the sound of music starts building and they all silently arrange themselves in formation behind her. Sensing the movement, she glances over her shoulder to give them a 'what the hell' look, when suddenly she notices the music and finds herself compelled to... you guessed it, sing. There's dancing too.

"Time was that I had a mission
Time was that I was a queen
Time was that I had a whole big destiny thing

But now that I'm stuck here in Taxon
I've kissed more vamps than I've slayed
And apparently being a hero
Is still chronically underpaid

Give me an apocalypse
Or at least a zombie
Give me some action
I just want to be free

Give me an apocalypse
I'm asking you please
Just a little apocalypse
Is all that I need

Nothing here is as it should be
The vamps can all walk in the day
I think the water is making my hair poofy
...And my Watcher is temporarily gay

I want things back how they used to be
I want to go back to the past
So I'm kinda traditional, sue me
But evil things are meant to kick my ass

I want some doom, some danger, some fire
I'm absolutely too young to retire...

Oh, give me an apocalypse
Just a single zombie
Give me some action
I just want to be free

Give me an apocalypse
I'm begging you please
Just a little apocalypse
Is all that I need"


...well. That was interesting.
[identity profile] eaturbreakfast.livejournal.com
Sam looks rough even in the video. He's got some blood under his nose like it was bleeding recently and fairly fresh black eye. He's got one hand to his temple like he's trying to stave off a headache. Which is sort of exactly what he's doing. He's paler than usual and a bit shaky. He clears his throat and doesn't quite burst into song but there's singing that looks like it hurts his head.

Of course it probably hurts everyone else's head as well.

♫I don't feel the way I've ever felt.
I know.
I'm gonna smile and not get worried.
I try but it shows.

Anyone can make what I have built.
And better now
Anyone can find the same white pills.
It takes my pain away.♫


He continues to look pained as he walks and the singing doesn't seem to help. Not that that stops him.

♫It's a lie. A kiss with open eyes
And she's not breathing back.
Anything but bother me.
(It takes my pain away)
Nevermind these are hurried times.
Oh oh oh
I can't let it bother me.♫
[identity profile] eaturbreakfast.livejournal.com
The first thing the camera catches is the sound of a muffled chainsaw. This goes on for a few seconds before there's sounds of some shuffling and shifting which jars the camera again. Oh yes that would be Sam squished into a chair sitting up asleep with his head back and some god awful snores coming from him.

Snores so loud he wakes himself up with a start. This jars the camera some more and Tara can be seen sound asleep on the bed. At least for the moment.

"Shit," he mutters and scrubs his hands over his face then leans up to check on Tara before sitting back in the chair. This is when he notices the camera is on.

"Uhm...sorry. I-Tara is fine for anyone that was wondering. Ethan, I meant to call you and tell you but..." He makes a gestures like...yeah I fell asleep.

He'd carried her home after the Doctor's injury and she'd been so exhausted from the spell she hadn't woken up. Worried, he'd just sat in her room to mother hen her.
aworldenchanted: (delighted)
[personal profile] aworldenchanted
As may have been evidenced by her frequent trips in and around the center of Taxon, Tara has been quite busy recently.  And though it’s served the secondary purpose of distracting her from the unwelcome news she received from Kyra, she’s found a great deal of satisfaction in slowly transforming the empty shop into something to be proud of. 

The shelves are now full of various hatched items, ingredients and books, including a few items enchanted by Tara and Ethan themselves.  Most tend toward healing and protection, though there are no guarantees that one couldn’t find other things as well (especially if one asked Ethan very nicely).  There’s a decent book selection, and dried herbs from the window garden Tara’s growing in the back.  Behind the counter, there are gift wrapping supplies, along with some of the more powerful items.

Though she’s not much for tooting her own horn, Sam and Buffy at least know what she’s been working on.  And Tara feels that they should do something to celebrate opening, even if it’s something quiet.  Balloons and cake, perhaps, like it’s the shop’s birthday.  Even if no one comes, though, it will do little to dampen her mood; it feels like one of the first things she’s done in Taxon, maybe in her life, that’s really come together.

She has enough things to worry about, but for this afternoon, she’s taking a break.

Also taking a break - from worrying about when this will end, from thinking about the other world that really sounds terrible, from wondering what Anya would think of the new shop - is Ethan, who discreetly added 'marijuana' to the, er, herbs on offer at Tamper and Trick. He's making tea in the backroom, presently, but he even put on a nice silk shirt (dark purple) for the occasion and he is taking it appropriately seriously-

"It's just not as satisfying when you can't play with the money," he says, bringing two cups out to Tara.

(Sort of seriously.)


The shop is open, so drop by. Curious strangers are also fine.
aworldenchanted: (someday you'll know)
[personal profile] aworldenchanted
Tara's doing much better, it has to be said. Those who know her can still see a change; it's only been about a week since she found out about her future, after all, and it's a lot to cope with. But opening the shop with Ethan is helping take her mind off it in a big way, as are the friends who've been supportive. She's resolved to make the most of her time now, in Taxon, and worry about Sunnydale if she made it back to Sunnydale.

In the meantime, she will be talking to Piper at some point, for a lesson and to deliver DG's apology. She will be looking for Sam, to teach him Uno. Both DG and Sam need to meet Giles. She needs to talk about her bus ticket to a variety of people. On top of which, she's been in and out, going back and forth to clean up the store and brainstorming both names and a potential inventory list.

Keeping busy helps, and she's been attempting to do so full force. But Tara will always be happy to take time to talk to her friends, when she runs into them. That helps too.
[identity profile] trainedprat.livejournal.com
Usually, Arthur is good with public speaking. He's made countless rousing speeches, and being a prince has meant a great deal of being thrust into centre stage. It's a bit different when you're talking into a funny little machine though, and you can't actually see the masses of people you're addressing. Still, when he speaks, it's with an even (and slightly regal) confidence.

"My name is Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. There are a few of you with whom I've spoken, and many more I have not."

"I'm making this announcement because I seek the assistance of those who would protect this city from the dangers that all too frequently seem to assail it."

"My kingdom, at home, is protected by a force of knights. We work together to ensure the safety of our people, and to defend against attacks - be it from fell creatures or simple troublemakers."

"It is my goal to establish a force like that here in Taxon. Being a knight requires courage, fortitude and discipline. You need only respond if you possess these qualities. Some experience in combat would be desirable, but if you have none and still wish to serve, I would be prepared to teach you."
[identity profile] rubinuslapis.livejournal.com
Training Sam Winchester has been kind of a bitch. Ruby hasn't been able to get any viable reaction out of him since she ambushed him and pushed him to the edge of death which was kind of pathetic when she thought too hard about it. The cuts and bruises had stopped healing slowly on their own, leaving nasty looking discolorations on her skin and the last straw had been a gash left on her cheek where Sam had got in a lucky punch.

Then Rose had been kind and stupid enough to pay Ruby for her services in allowing Rose to observe her movement through Taxon, which on its own did a number on her. She'd started to look worn out, not quite dead girl walking but a few steps away nonetheless. It was time to put that payment to use, and work a little energy drink to boost Ruby back to normal again.

The video cuts in on a candle-lit room (oh this is not Ruby's residence - she might be a bitch but she is not an idiot) and Ruby kneeling in the middle of a large occult symbol on the floor, just ending some sort of chant. She leans forward and picks up the small bowl filled with dark liquid (the keen-eyed or experienced MIGHT be able to recognize it as blood), pulling it in toward her but not drinking.

It ignites, looking no more special for its standard color but Ruby breaths in and sighs. It hurts worse than it did when she received the wounds, but she refuses beyond clenching her teeth and grunting to allow the pain through. Ruby curses under her breath, faltering a little but very determined not to fall out of the boundaries of the circle, or drop the bowl.

Hopefully anyone watching will be kind enough to leave her be. Because that's totally what Ruby would do, right?
[identity profile] eaturbreakfast.livejournal.com
So this whole economy thing. I've been here long enough to know that credit card fraud and hustling pool or darts isn't going to cut it. I've never charged anyone for hunting and I don't plan on doing it here.

I'm not really sure what else I'm good for? I used to barback in college and I've got a bachelor's in pre-law. I'm pretty good at research.



Anyone got a suggestion where to work?

Added a bit later at DG's suggestion

I can also pick locks, commit credit card successfully, perform a limited autopsy (don't ask), perform exorcisms and possibly do thinks like telekinsis and kill demons with my brain
[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com
If anyone had been paying attention to Sam Spade's movements, it would have, at first, seemed like he was wandering the city haphazardly. Perhaps it was the restlessness of the newly confined, or the aimlessness of boredom. He turned up a variety of places, attempted to talk to Extras now and then, occasionally going in buildings, sometimes just circling them. It all seemed very random.

In truth, it was anything but.

At first, he'd simply been verifying what he was told; that the place was a closed system, without communication or transport to the outside. Once he'd done that, his purpose had become twofold.

First of all, he was mapping the city. Yes, he had the tablet, and had figured out how to use the map function to a limited degree. But he wanted a map in his head. Easier to access, and for the most part, more reliable. He knew San Fransisco inside and out, and if he was going to get any answers about this joint, he needed to have a baseline to start from.

The second reason for his walks was to listen. He'd picked up a fair amount listening to public broadcasts on the tablet, but he wanted a feel of the place. The flow of people: where they lived, where they congregated. What they talked about when he passed them on the street.

He wouldn't mind talking to someone who approached him, of course. But for now, he's waiting. Spade's patience had always served him well in the past, after all, and now his caution was a little greater than before. Taking his time couldn't hurt.

[ooc: He's keeping an eye out for Leila as per Sol's suggestion, but otherwise feel free to run into him wherever you'd like.]
[identity profile] freezecharm.livejournal.com
There's something about working in the kitchen - any kitchen - that makes Piper feel completely in control.

Ever since she discovered the huge kitchen in Buffy's castle, Piper has been positively itching to cook something in it. She has yet to ask Buffy if she can - and with everything that happened in the last few weeks, for a little while it even seemed like she wouldn't be able to. Thankfully, Taxon has been relatively quiet and peaceful - save for some transmissions of the freaky kind - but those, Piper will work hard to ignore from now on.

This morning, when she passed by the kitchen she didn't even bother to fight the urge to do what she wanted. Hatching the necessary ingredients for one of her specialties - Triple Chocolate Espresso Bean Cookie - she gets to work right away, unaware that her tablet, which she has set on top of the counter, is recording all her movements.

Several minutes later, and the kitchen is filled with the wonderful aroma of baking cookies. Piper checks the oven, smiles, and pulls out the first batch. She's baking about three or four batches - after all, she's recently discovered that Buffy's castle is also home to people she hasn't met yet. Maybe this is a good way to actually get to know them.

[ ooc: backdated to before the DG glitch! ]

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