taxonomites | Entries tagged with { siri tachi

ihavettk.livejournal.com

Kon's floating upside-down reading a magazine when all of a sudden there is no magazine and he's in some weird metal room thing. "Uh… wha?" He blinks and turns right side up.

Okay, this place definitely looks sciency, so whoever took him clearly wasn't using magic. That means this is probably aliens. Or maybe Luthor. Probably aliens. Luthor would be there to gloat.

"Right," he mutters. "I've been kidnapped by evil aliens, probably. Again. I hope they're not slimy. Or the kind with probes. Oh, please let them be the hot girl kind of aliens who need me to repopulate the planet." Not that he would. He's got a girlfriend. But hey, it's better than the alternative.

Of course, these aliens can't be too smart. Kon's still got all his powers, and there's no Kryptonite anywhere. He flies full force at the door and bounces off it.

"Ouch. Dammit!" Kon scowls and sits up, rubbing his head. Okay, his invulnerability means it doesn't really hurt that much, but it's still annoying. "Well, you may have my super strength beaten, but see if you're a match for my always-awesome tactile telekinesis!" He touches the doors and strains to make them budge with his aura, but there is nothing.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Kon grumbles. Whatever. He's no quitter. He goes to push at the doors again. Maybe this time it'll work.

iam-thebadwolf.livejournal.com

[Rose's voice sounds panicked. More than that she sounds a bit terrified and on the edge of falling apart]

Anyone seen the Doctor last night or today? Didn't come home and his coat, screw driver--they're missing. I--I can't find 'im on the map.

[There's a pause before Rose speaks again]

M'worried 'bout him.

rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com

For those who watch the maps, who wonder where everyone is, or for those who've been keeping track of a certain criminal on parole around Taxon:

At exactly 8:45 am, the Doctor's signal vanishes from the map of Taxon.

His tracking anklet remains on, though it is sitting in a rubbish bin in Osten. The written-up plans at the work site will suddenly no longer be there, and the Doctor will not be appearing for his regularly scheduled work.

faderbroderson

Godric is walking leisurely down the street toward Fangtasia when the music swells up around him. He stops and looks around, briefly perplexed before becoming alarmed. Oh no. This glitch has been affecting everyone else, and now it seems it's his turn. Before he can swear, the song rises up in his throat and escapes in an pleasant melody. He wouldn't win American Idol, but he can sing.

We're bound to wait all night
She's bound to run amok
Invested enough in it anyhow,
To each his own
The Garden is sorting out
She curls her lips on a bow
I don't know if you're dead or not
To anyone

( The High Road by Broken Bells )

As the music fades away, Godric doesn't move. He remains where he stopped, perfectly still. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking.

[Here's the song if you'd like to listen.]

sirachi.livejournal.com

One year.

It was hard to believe that a year's time had passed since Siri Tachi had been pulled into Taxon. A year ago, she'd been fighting a war she didn't necessarily agree with and now, she was stuck in an alien, underground city whose customs she agreed with even less. How stubborn she was to still be clinging to a set of rules and ideas that didn't fit here after all this time. Despite knowing that the piece wouldn't fit with the rest of the picture, she kept trying to shove it in to the puzzle. At least she might have something useful to do soon, with the proposition Prince Arthur had made about knights. She couldn't help but still long for home, though.

She sighed, looking up at the dim light of morning in Taxon's faux-sky. "You don't really appreciate the ability to travel so freely between worlds until you're limited to just one."

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."

mercurialnature.livejournal.com

"Good morning Taxon, and isn't it a grand, wonderful, glorious day? Can't you just feel the hum of spring in the air?" It's entirely reasonable to assume that Hermes' good mood is catching. Certainly, the barely restrained laughter and glee in his voice is the infectious sort. "How is everyone and their uncles, dogs, or uncles' dogs doing today?"

profiler.livejournal.com

Rebecca Locke is not a stranger to find herself in unfamiliar places. On the job, she’s come to expect it – whatever that says about her, it’s probably not positive, and it’s likely to get her locked in a room with a leather couch and a woman who wants to know all about her feelings, if her boss weren’t the manipulative bastard that he is. Small miracles.

It’s not the fact that she doesn’t recognize this room that alarms her. It’s the fact that she doesn’t recognize how she got here. She hasn’t woken up here – she simply is here. No tranquilisers or paralytics or two-by-fours over the head involved. That’s the part she doesn’t understand, and whatever Rebecca doesn’t understand, she desperately wants to.

She surveys the room at first – the walls and the ceiling. If there are cameras, they’re well-hidden. So it’s not your garden variety psycho that likes to lock girls up in their basement. Could be a wealthy, connected psycho that likes to lock girls up in their basement. Which would put her in an estate out past the suburbs, or a government facility in the heart of downtown. There are other possibilities, still. Too many.

For example, maybe the cameras aren’t hidden. Maybe they aren’t there. Maybe there are no microphones either, in which case yelling won’t do any good. There is some sort of device nearby. She’s supposing her abductor wants to communicate with her through it. In that case, maybe it’s someone with a scientist complex, and she’s the rat chasing the cheese. Could just be a bored sociopath enabled by too much Saw, but there’s a distinct lack of escalation, if that’s the case.

Only one way to find out.

Rebecca picks up the device. She could start with her government title, read them their rights, and insist on being let go. But they both know that’s not going to happen. Besides, she’s still got her badge on her. If they took her, it’s because she’s with the FBI, which means there’s no sense in acting the scared victim either.

She’ll be frank then. Keep it short. She activates the tablet and speaks into it like she would a walkie-talkie. No need for introductions.

“Who am I speaking to?”

[ ooc | as mentioned in my ooc post, backdated to just a few hours before the doctor's trial. ♥ ]

a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com

Drusilla, sprawled on the floor of the office like a broken doll, made a noise that was half way between a scream and sob. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t supposed to lose him – gone, just like Spike and Grandmother and Miss Edith and her version of the Slayer – again.

It had been a strange thing to feel. The soul had been thrust into Daddy’s chest in a flurry of magic and a burst of sparks. She’d missed it the first time, too young and too free to appreciate the gravity of such a spell. In Taxon, she’d been waiting for it.

“Give him back!” she exclaimed, hurling her tablet against the wall in a burst of rage and frustration, “Give him back!”

With a growl of misery and frustration, Drusilla – with wild eyes and tangled hair and tears in her perfect crimson dress – pulled herself to her feet. She moved awkwardly, as if her limbs were made of lead and every step made her ache, but, eventually, she reached her father’s desk. She curled up in the leather chair, wrapping her arms around her knees and attempting to cling to memories that couldn’t last. She could still smell Angelus – the lingering traces of his wickedness – in the air, but he was fading fast. The Angel Beast, his soul safely installed some hours before, was sweeping across the city like a storm cloud.

“Please,” she murmured, rocking gently in her seat “Let him come home. I promise I’ll never be wicked again …”

But she would be. She couldn’t fight against her blood and she couldn’t fight against her Daddy and, because they knew that, they didn’t listen to her entreaties.

The only person who did listen – apart from the tablet, though the vampire didn’t realise that she was being recorded – was the doll she’d given to Dawn. The little linen figure had been abandoned during the escape. She lay silently on the wooden floor, as limp and listless as Drusilla had been earlier. It hurt to look at her. It hurt to think about the Slayer and the Dawn Bird. They hadn’t understood. Despite her best efforts, Drusilla’s family had never truly come together.

“I need Miss Edith,” Drusilla whispered, “I need to change Miss Edith.”

lionofolympus.livejournal.com

Hercules is poking at his tablet again. He apparently did not expect the button to do what it did, as he has a befuddled expression on his face.

Eventually he does realize he has been projecting his face.

"Oh, excuse me!" he says, his expression changing to one of amusement. "I am still learning the ways of this device! If anyone could come help me, I would be quite grateful."

He then grins.

"I do think it may require a feminine touch."

Sly old dog.

sirachi.livejournal.com

It was waking up in a bed inside a fully furnished house that first alerted Siri to something amiss (yet again) in Taxon. She didn't sleep in a lavish shelter such as this and didn't have any memory of even entering or coming near any place remotely similar the night before. In fact, she remembered, quite clearly, laying down where she always slept. Which meant she was moved in her sleep, but by who? The aliens or someone else? Taxon's captive population was, after all, no stranger to meddlers within their own midst.

Reaching out with her mind, she sensed three other presences within the house, nixing the notion that she'd been placed here alone. Answers were needed and seeing as how she doubted this room held any, she left it and made her way into what appeared to be a sitting room of some sort. Immediately, she notices the strange kit on the table and the costumes within the vicinity of it.

Was this some sort of joke? First those giant rodents, now this.

"What is going on here?"

taxcollectors.livejournal.com

Midday in Taxon, there is a special arrival.

Two very exceptionally large hamsters stand on the platform of the Sanctuary's arrival room. One, pale caramel with white underbelly and gray stripes, takes immediately to unconsciously preening itself before squeaking out triumphantly, "Oh! It worked!"

The other, white with exceptionally long white fur about its head to go with its exceptional height, claps its little forepaws together and smiles a bright hamster smile. "It did! Fully synced?" There's a moment of hesitation before it realizes that, yes, it did just think and speak at the same time. Then, with a squeak to go with its fellow's, "...Fully synced!"

"Oh! Oh, yes," says the first as it approaches the tablet, ready for its big moment, "Hello citizens! Hellooo!" It waves cheerily as it speaks, "So wonderful to see you!"

"Yes! Wonderful!" The other follows the first, with a happy shake of its long fur.

( LONG WINDED HAMSTERS ARE LONG WINDED )
"Question time now! Can't wait to hear from you!" The second appears almost giddy, bouncing lightly on its hind-paws as it addresses the city. "You're such wonderful personalities, aren't you? Do hurry, can't stay long!"

The first pipes up with a squeak, "Limited time offer!"

---

A short time later, when all their little conversations are not quite done, but as finished as they'll ever possibly get considering, they wave a little sadly at the tablet.

The second pipes up with a squeaky hamster sigh and shake of its long fur, "Hate to leave!"

"Oh," the first agrees, sounding happy but tired from all the excitement of talking to the citizens they've watched for so long, "we do! But we must!"

"Toodles!"

With the tiniest little shiver in the holo display, the two of them disappear from the arrival chamber, still waving to the citizens.

freezecharm.livejournal.com

[ There's a sound of pages rustling. With everything that has happened in Taxon - dangerous vampires running amok, crazy people bombing everything regardless of intentions or who they'd hurt - Piper feels as though she should do something. She consults The Book of Shadows and while she's not sure it will work, she decides to give it a try. ]

In this night and in this hour
I call upon the Ancient Power
Heed my words, I beseech thee.

In this circle that is our home
protect us from the evils that roam
And ensure our safety.

[ she waits for something to happen - but after a pathetic puff of smoke in the air, nothing did. She sighs.] Right. Of course that won't work.

dieneidio

Having casually moved into Wayne Manor - she took over the tower nearest the library, claiming a bedroom and then the room above it for her weaponry and books - Enfys has been occupied in the aftermath with fussing around Morgana and establishing herself in the household here. (She may have all but piddled on the floor to mark out the kitchen as her territory, fuck you she does what she wants. The library, too, if only because she walked into it and announced 'jesus christ I think I just came' and you know, she is a librarian.)

Now, though, she's sitting cross-legged in front of her tablet (hanging out in her dad's jersey and her skeleton socks, having foregone pants and perched on a table in the upstairs room of Her Tower) with a slightly sheepish expression.

"So, Taxon! How about those explosions? ...too soon? Got it. I'm just throwing out a head's up to Drs McCoy and Watson that I'm really sorry for the threats, and the bike, and I'll get you a beer if you want. If anybody else needs me, I'm unpacking, and for people hanging out at the manor, dinner's at seven and vegetarians fend for themselves."

caballero

How did the conclusion of 'aliens did it' come to be? Has there been any contact with these 'aliens' or other entities identified as our captors?

Assume I am from a very boring reality and have no contact with mass media, and the word 'vampire' means nothing to me. Can anyone explain what the commotion is all about?

( i see who i should be )

eaturbreakfast.livejournal.com

He had only closed his eyes for a minute, cheek pressed against the cool window of the Impala. He can hear Dean’s fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he murmurs the lyrics to a Bon Jovi song under his breath. Life with Dean is an endlessly cycle of noise so it’s the quiet that wakes him up, his cheek pressed against cool metal instead of glass. He jumps, dropping the book he had clutched in his hand. He scrabbles backward and to his feet nearly falling over before he rights himself and retrieving the book. Its John’s hunting journal and Sam doesn’t remember falling asleep with it.

“Dean?”

He glances wildly around the room, patting his pockets, the small of his back and his waistband to find a gun that’s not there. It’s in the glove box of the Impala which is definitely not here. He swallows hard, tucks the journal under one arm, worry etched into his expression as he starts toward the pedestal in the center of the room.

“Ruby!” It’s not so much a question the way calling for Dean was. It’s more of a plea. She bitches at him when he summons her with a spell, insisting that he can just call but then she bitches about everything so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised—disappointed—when there’s no sudden appearance of a tall, bitchy blonde.

“Fantastic. I don’t have time for this crap!” he screams, the words reverberating off the metal walls. The sleeves of his plaid shirt slip up and he notices the bracelet around his wrist. No…not around his wrist, fused seamlessly into his wrist. An initial tugging lets him discover that it won’t move anywhere. Concerns about the bracelet get pushed aside because he can ask questions about suddenly acquired jewelry fetishes later after he finds Dean. He picks up the tablet on the pedestal and fiddles with it a moment.

“Testing, testing. Can anyone hear me on this thing? I sort of have somewhere to be so if I could get out of here that’d be great.”

Current Mood: bitchy

sirachi.livejournal.com

Siri was one of those few individuals who'd opted not to attend the Valentine's Day bash. She had nothing against parties and had attended the last one, but this particular holiday made her uncomfortable. It was a celebration of something the Jedi were forbidden from touching and the thought of just being there, among those who were indulging in what she could never have, felt wrong to her. She couldn't go and instead retreated into the Taxon Forest.

Near one of waterfalls, she sat with her legs crossed and posture rigid, yet also relaxed. Her eyes were not on the tablet she'd set off to the side, but on a large boulder that rested before her that had other, similarly-sized boulders resting atop it to form a tower that should look as if it were to topple over at any moment. Yet, it wasn't, because Siri was holding them firmly in place with her mind.

Exercises like this helped her focus and keep her attention off of things she shouldn't be thinking about.

mercurialnature.livejournal.com

One moment the arrival room is empty and in the next, there's a lean, harmless looking fellow with a look of surprise on his face. He's well-dressed in the sort of causal clothing that hints at money rather than screams it; when on the job, as Hermes had been, it doesn't do to spook the mark. With that in mind, there's a flicker of moment too fast to follow and the golden sickle in his hand disappears.

Seemly filled with nearly boundless energy, he's constantly moving and currently examining his surroundings. The tablet is unusual, but advanced technology can always be explained, but a non-removable bracelet is something spectacular.

"Good morning, good day, and goodness me, could someone, would someone be so kind to tell me where, when, how, and all sorts of other delightful, delicious answers? I'd be ever so, but not eternally so, grateful." Despite looking well fed, there's a well hidden, but occasionally perceptible hunger to him.

gotcouplings.livejournal.com

All on Serenity is quiet, but for the mechanic in the engine room. Kaylee isn't actively working on the ship, just sitting in her hammock tinkering with some nameless part on her lap. It doesn't feel right, all this quiet, and finally she rolls herself out of the hammock, places the parts back in it, and heads out of the engine room.

No sound but her footsteps.

None of this is right. Serenity's never been a quiet place--at the very least there's somebody snoring from the bunks, or not-quite-quiet laughter or Mal's pacing.

She tucks herself away in the little alcove off the kitchen before turning her tablet on. There's a smile, somewhere in her face, mingled with worry and what might come off as fear if someone looks at it the right way.

Kaylee clears her throat. "Wonderin' if anybody's seen the Cap'n or Wash about." A beat. "Ain't seen 'em in...goin' on a few days now..."

sirachi.livejournal.com

There's something that the Jedi Master's been curious about for some time now, something that's prompted her to watch the tablets a little more closely than usual, paying greater attention to the detail of words, their inflections and hidden meanings...but the majority of it seems to point to an answer to a question she's not necessarily pleased with. She's come to be content with life in Taxon, but it doesn't mean she wants to be here forever. Others, however, seems as if they would be content to remain here for all eternity.

"A question," she ventures, "do any of you expect to be returned home and on that note, do any of you want to?"