001: still I'm dying with every step I take, but I don't look back [holo]

[ownlittleprison]

If there's one thing I've learned in 85 years, it's that what we want doesn't always matter. Yeah. You can say that again.It had been a good twenty something hours, all things considered. He’d saved the day, saved the girl, gone on the strangest roller coaster ride of his life - literally - and at the end of it, he got a curve ball to rival all

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[ holo ]

[longaevus]

It had been whilst walking through the city that she'd discovered the Sanctuary - her Sanctuary. Possessions, even buildings arriving had been mentioned to her but Helen hadn't expected this, although she was thankful for it... for the most part. She was glad that her residents hadn't arrived with the building, they didn't need to be here, but if anyone was able to get in? She would definitely be on alert in regards to security, and changing all of the passwords on the security systems. It was a start at least, and she was relieved to see that the EM Shield was also fully operational

[ holo ]

[ownlittleprison]

Mick frowns, turning around at the sound of the voice - woman, British(?), isn't there some sci-fi tv show where the computer talks just like her? Calm and collected and just warm enough not to be completely detached.

Maybe it was a movie.

Funny how this is looking more and more like one every second that goes by. A holographic projection... Right. Nothing good ever comes from holographic projections in the movies. No, things aren't exactly looking up from where he's standing; tall and casual but not relaxed, everything about him telling of streetwise tempered by experience. He's been around the block a few times, as the saying goes, but he's been other places too.

"Helen." He says the word as if it's a letter/number combination. "Would you mind telling me what is going on here?"

If this is one of Josef's tricks (though why would it be? It isn't his style)...

[ holo ]

[longaevus]

"I will tell you all that I can; I only arrived here myself a few days ago." Which was her roundabout way of saying that they were in the same situation. 'Normal' wasn't part of her vocabulary.

"You've been brought to a place known as Taxon - it's an underground city, one which somehow holds onto things that are dear to us, bringing them here with us." It was hard to know where to go, with what to tell him. She wanted him to understand, to hopefully feel calm rather than fearful. Giving him the exit from that room could be one way of doing that but there was no guarantee that he would listen to her after that - it was a hard decision to make.

"Where are you from?" It wasn't relevant but she hoped that something more akin to a conversation would be helpful also.

[ holo ]

[ownlittleprison]

It's either a ploy to gain his trust for whatever twisted purpose he's been brought here. Was he drugged? Knocked out and whisked away someplace far from home?

Was his cover blown?

He gives a slight sigh, realizing he's letting his imagination run away with him; he tells himself to deal with the facts. He closes his eyes, breathes in deep through his nose-- Nothing. Just a void, and he's stuck right in it, with no choice but to play along.

If this turns out to be some kind of twisted mind game, he'll find out eventually. "I'm Mick... And I'm from LA. You're telling me this is an underground facility."

'Taxon'. Never heard of it; probably wouldn't have if it's some sort of high priority government secret. "For what purpose? And where are we?"

[visual]

[freaks_myword]

Gwen was currently out walking. It was the first thing she'd done on her own upon arriving in the city just a few days ago. It was one of those 'have to see for yourself' kind of things. It didn't make it any less strange, but it made it a little more real.

When her own tablet clicked on and she not only heard a voice, but saw a hologram of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself, she stopped dead in her tracks. And looked around. And saw no one to confirm that she wasn't going crazy. So, had this happened to her when she arrived? Had everyone gotten front row seats to her appearance in Alienville?

Fumbling with the Tablet, she switched off the hologram mode and turned on the visual cam. It was just too weird, and not that she wouldn't enjoy giving the newcomer a nice view of the goods, but it was just...simpler. She actually felt kind of bad for the sucker. She'd spent nearly every minute trying to get her own metal accessory off

[holo]

[ownlittleprison]

So much for the Artificial Insanity theory, thought Mick as a second message came through; this time very much not a holographic representation of anyone, but a... He couldn't help but give a surprised grin, his eyebrows doing a fairly impressive golden arches impersonation. Girl's got spunk.

"I got enough bling already," he said. "So let me guess, you're another passenger of the RMS Titanic?"

[visual]

[freaks_myword]

She saw those arched eyebrows and they weren't anything new to her. She won't lie; sometimes she did things to get that startled reaction. It kept people on their toes, and when it came to clients, let them know who's in charge.

"I can see that," she replied, eying the ring on his finger. "Preferably the one who lives a long life riding horses and skydiving and stuff. I'm Gwen."

[holo]

[ownlittleprison]

Well, at least you got the guy distracted from the fact he's trapped in a steel cylinder, missy. Good job.

"Sky diving?" He said, his skepticism shining through even more than just seconds ago - but when a girl is gorgeous and flirty, Mick can't very well be a sourpuss. "That sounds like a death wish to me. Extreme sport's your thing? Mick St. John."

[holo]

[rose_tainted]

It seemed to Rose that even new people were arriving more often now and it made her think of the possibility that there was a chance of seeing someone that she knew coming here. Maybe it was a false hope to cling on to but it was hope nevertheless. Still, he had caught her attention when he arrived and she felt the need to speak to him.

So, without further ado, Rose put on her most charming smile and broke her silence.

"Hey there. Welcome to Taxon." Her accent was English and clear-cut, but soft as well.

[holo]

[ownlittleprison]

They say one doesn't count, two's a coincidence and three makes a pattern. This was the third girl in how many minutes to send him a greeting, and so far no one's stepping up as the one responsible.

It's all looking a bit like the Stepford Wives, and he's the last one standing. Not that he was complaining, all things considered; he was more focused on figuring this out, on playing along and finding a way out of here.

"Hey. Thanks." He tilted his head to the side, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry I'm not too enthusiastic."

[holo]

[rose_tainted]

"It's okay, I forgive you," she said, teasing him lightly. "Don't really blame you for not being enthusiastic. You've been taken from your home and thrust into an unknown world. Anyone would be annoyed about it."

Rose is trying to think about the best way to break it to him that it's impossible for him to return home.

"I'm Rose by the way. What's your name?"

Maybe she should wait to tell him the truth.

[holo]

[ownlittleprison]

At that little bit of reassurance, Mick let out a soft huff of air and smiled. Whether this was an elaborate something unknown, he would rather be laughing than crying. "Mick St. John. I'd say it's good to meet you, Rose, but I wouldn't be entirely truthful. I had stuff going on, you know. A business to run, favors to call in... I'm just supposed to sit here nicely and wait for whoever kidnapped me to lay it all out?"

[Audio]

[imperial_long]

"I don't believe it's 'our style' for any of us, really. Certainly I know I would prefer something a bit less tawdry. A leather wristband, perhaps..."

Long realizes he is tangenting, and clears his throat. "Forgive me. I am sure you have greater concerns at the moment than wristwear. My name is Mayland Long. The very short version is that we, the both of us, are prisoners of entities of considerable power."

[holo]

[ownlittleprison]

Three girls and one guy.

All right. Three girls, and now two guys with some kind of taste. Having picked up his tablet, Long catches Mick while he's on his way out of the Arrival Room. He watches the open door as though some grave danger is lurking behind it, sidling up to it and pressing his back to the wall and cocks his head to peer outside.

It's a pool area.

"Huh. Right, sorry. I didn't expect to go poolside, first thing." He makes a slight face of whatthehellisgoingon and then looks at the tablet. "I'm Mick St. John. From Los Angeles. 2007."

The year thing is seriously creeping him out - which is perfectly plain to see by now. He is not a happy camper, but he's doing his best to stay calm and rational.

[audio]

[imperial_long]

"The pool? Interesting. It opened into a sort of lobby, for me," Long says, but without any true concern to his voice. He's quite used, by this point, to the city doing whatsoever it will.

"A pleasure, Mr. St. John, or it might be under difference circumstances at least. San Francisco, 1983. I see someone has already explained the possibility of different years of origin to you." (Long sounds pleased by this-- it's one less thing he has to explain.)

The man's body language on the little holographic image is that of someone expecting a blow, a bullet, an attack. Long can hardly blame him for the paranoia, but all the same...

"Nobody is going to attack you, Mr. St. John. Not at the moment, anyway. Of course, I understand that you have no reason to trust my assertion, and I don't blame you for being wary under the circumstances."

[holo]

[ownlittleprison]

"Yeah," he says, none too pleased about anything right now. Talk about a weird, trippy end to an otherwise really good week. He takes a step outside the room at long last, taking out a pair of black sunglasses to shield his eyes from the sun. One hand stays up in front of his face as he heads for the nearest door - peeks inside: locker room. Moving to the next door...

"Call me Mick. 1983?" He only just refrains from groaning under the crushing pressure of What ifs and But hows and Why mes.

"Have you seen The Terminator yet? I'm feeling a bit like that with the time and space thing."

[ visual ]

[poisonousparty]

This is a newcomer and newcomers mean Party can be a little lax on security. There's something about the snark, the little quips here and there that make Party Poison think of Fun Ghoul and how the seat of his car smells like cigarettes now, always cigarettes because Ghoul's lazy smirk and his damn cancer sticks cling to you.

It's why he can't help but turn the visual on. He's on the hood of his car, sitting on the giant spray-painted spider, mask slipped on as he watches the other flail around, helpless. For a brief moment he feels bad he was so amused, and tells the mysterious nonexistent voice of Fun Ghoul to cram it.

"Look alive, sunshine." Party nods in the tablet's direction. "You're out of whatever frying pan were in and into the damn fire. It's a gilded cage and the whole thing's costa rica but I'm Party Poison and I'll try my best to be your guide through this hellhole."

[ visual ]

[poisonousparty]

This is a newcomer and newcomers mean Party can be a little lax on security. There's something about the snark, the little quips here and there that make Party Poison think of Fun Ghoul and how the seat of his car smells like cigarettes now, always cigarettes because Ghoul's lazy smirk and his damn cancer sticks cling to you.

It's why he can't help but turn the visual on. He's on the hood of his car, sitting on the giant spray-painted spider, mask slipped on as he watches the other flail around, helpless. For a brief moment he feels bad he was so amused, and tells the mysterious nonexistent voice of Fun Ghoul to cram it.

"Look alive, sunshine." Party nods in the tablet's direction. "You're out of whatever frying pan you were in and into the damn fire. It's a gilded cage and the whole thing's costa rica but I'm Party Poison and I'll try my best to be your guide through this hellhole."

[ holo ]

[ownlittleprison]

Mick frowns where he stands, surveying his surroundings. Go out there into the pool area (and what the Hell is that all about?) and jot one more down in favor of going insane, or stay in the metallic room like a scaredy cat?

Go out into the other room it is; the new voice echoing out over the pristine tiles in a much scarier way than in any 1950's sci-fi double feature.

He looks down at the face - at the mask, more like it - reminded almost instantly of the lecherous, power hungry professor who fancied himself a vampire. Him and his office full of antiques and vampire paraphernalia.

But the similarities stop there. "Gilded cage, huh?" He says, looking this way and that as he moves across the floor with new found purpose. There's got to be a way out of here.

"You been here long?"

[ visual ]

[poisonousparty]

"Long enough to know this place is ten pounds of guano and six kinds of crazy," Party answers automatically. He glances over at the Tablet and nods, his way of saying 'you're not alone.'

"Don't know all the details yet but I'm railing to get out. There's another gal--Gwen Raiden. She's handy to have on your team. Keep your gun close if you've got it, they apparently look like hamsters but who knows what they really are. Aliens, apparently."

He glances at the tablet again and there's an odd look that flickers across his yellow masked face before he turns a sharp left, nearly taking out a car in front of him.

"Don't trust anyone."