now i rock a house party at the drop of a hat.

[eventextras]

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

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[location] placeholder tag because it's been a long day

[tin_hearts]

On the eleventh floor, Wyatt Cain suddenly finds himself staring out from a completely unfamiliar window. Having been one of the captive residents for seven months now, he really ought have learned to expect the unexpected.

However, being transported from one place to another in the blink of an eye reminds him entirely too much of his Arrival to reprimand himself for a lack of vigilance.

And so, dressed in a plain shirt and pale trousers (as be his wont), he goes in search of others stuck in the same proverbial boat up a certain metaphorical creek as him.

[location] somewhere between the 16th and 11th floors?

[stepintoshadows]

Once confident he has committed all the most important details to paper, Rorschach goes wandering; he may be irritated by the situation he has been placed in, but inconvenience is no excuse for a lapse in routine. He is just as capable of investigating properly without his face, it's just...less than ideal

[location] I was just gonna tag you. Stop reading my mind, plz and thnx <3

[tin_hearts]

Cain would, on even the worst of days, like to think of himself as a patient man. He's seen more than his fair share of darkness, both his own and that of the world at large, the kind that lurks in the hearts of even the best of men.

He's been stared down in the streets on many an occasion (in a court room, at the station, in a holding cell), but it's been such a long time he can't help but feel a slight, crawling discomfort along his spine.

Another newcomer? No. Not if the recognition in the other man's eyes is anything to go by.

"Have we met?" Because why beat around the bush?

[location] sorry, I'm just psychic apparently :)

[stepintoshadows]

The question is ignored as if he hadn't heard it, discarded as irrelevant. He grasps for the man's name, knows he's stored it somewhere amongst the jumble of nonsense and details, and then there it is. Cain. The cop. Distaste twists his words, but it's an afterthought, something adopted more from habit than relevance. Rorschach speaks, but the words come out through Kovacs, the grit and most of their power stripped away to leave behind something easily mistaken for weak, unexceptional. Unremarkable. "I'm not the only one put here, then. Interesting."

Rorschach doesn't look away, doesn't even blink, only continues to watch him through a gaze so blank and expressionless it might as well be a mask itself.

[location] 4th floor, room 3

[iminmynightie]

Amy opens her eyes slowly, trying to focus. Her forehead creases with confusion as she finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings and suddenly she sits bolt upright.

"Wha? Where...?" She looks all around her, then throws the covers back, jumping onto her knees to look out the window. It would be too much to expect she was sent back to the TARDIS or Leadworth, she supposed.

Turning back, she catches sight of the tablet and snatches it up, reading the message and letting out a snort.

"Technical difficulties? What's broken now, hamsters?"

Amy sets the tablet back down and heads to the door, not expecting she'll be able to leave. But to her surprise, it opens and she finds herself looking down a short, nondescript hallway opening into an area filled with what looks like storage lockers. With a shrug, she slips into the hall in nothing but a knee length nightie to go explore.

[location: thirteenth floor] all that I have is on the floor;

[auntjenna]

On the thirteenth floor, Jenna wakes up somewhere completely new. She blinks a few times and stares at this different room. Okay this is definitely ranking pretty high on the creepy meter and she hasn't had nearly enough time to get used to Taxon for this sort of thing. Even glancing at the tablets isn't helpful. That message is just... not useful.

So, Jenna decides to peek into the hallway, glad for once that she hadn't actually managed to get all the way undressed last night or this would be even more awkward than it already is.

"Elena? Damon?"

She'd call for Stefan, but... cover.

all that I have is on the floor;

[whoneedsrules]

Having descended down from the sixteenth floor while on a lookout for familiar faces (yes, she could just look for them over the tablets but the old-fashioned way is just so much more fun when you're a vampire), Katherine's sharp hearing picks up Jenna calling for Elena and Damon.

She tries to resist the temptation. Really, she does.

And clearly fails, as she pads nearly soundlessly over to Jenna's door, making sure nobody is around to see when she boosts the final few steps with just a bit of vampire speed.

"Hi, Jenna," she greets pleasantly with a charming smile, standing in front of her 'aunt'. Jenna, you can probably tell from the curls, the lapis lazuli necklace and the short black nightie that this is not Elena.

all that I have is on the floor;

[auntjenna]

The sound of that familiar voice brings Jenna spinning around. She's relieved to hear it... for all of two seconds. Then, she registers the person attached to that voice. If the nightgown wasn't a big enough hint, the curly hair and the necklace definitely do the trick. Jenna's vervain necklace hangs against her chest, over the tan skin-tight top and shorts she was wearing to bed, and she finds herself eternally grateful to Elena for its use. At least now she doesn't have to worry about Katherine being able to compel her.

"...Katherine," Jenna murmurs in response, trying and failing to keep herself from looking or sounding as scared as she suddenly is. She hasn't run into Katherine before and she was rather hoping she never would.

all that I have is on the floor;

[whoneedsrules]

"Got it in one," Katherine smiles on, easily noting Jenna's terror. It would be blatantly obvious even if she couldn't hear the other woman's heartbeat picking up the pace frantically. Adrenaline is flooding her veins - it makes the blood smell different. Better. Katherine's gaze strays to Jenna's jugular briefly before flickering down to the necklace at her throat. The faintest whiff of vervain confirms what Katherine already guessed about the piece of jewelry. Shame.

"So, this is where the aliens dumped you, hm?" she questions casually, glancing about Jenna's room. "Looks just as dull and uninspiring as mine."

[location] 7th Floor, Room 3 & Corridor

[vampbogeyman]

Anita was really getting tired of waking up in strange places.

Stabbings, she could handle. Vampire bites, cuts, scratches, bruises, broken bones, any manner of injury, she could deal with. These were all tangible things that could be dealt with in a manner that gave her some sense of accomplishment, even if she wasn't terribly fond of the injuries themselves. It was a malady she had some degree of control over.

But this? This constant moving, waking up to yet another unfamiliar set of walls?

Okay. Yeah. This was getting old fast.

She grumbled as she sat up in bed, ruffling the back of her hair with her hand before raking fingers through it, a haphazard way of grooming herself. Well, if she was going to be somewhere unfamiliar, she was glad she had chosen to sleep in jeans and a polo. It was a good rule of thumb, she felt, to prepare to be on the move at any time of day, with the new addendum of "especially when one has been kidnapped by aliens."

No shoes, though. Damn it. Reaching for her nearby tablet, she blinked several times

[location 7th Floor Corridor]

[thesecondslayer]

Faith's in roughly the same boat; she's just far, far more half naked. Just be glad she's in sleep pants and a sports bra instead of bareass naked. It does mean her scar from where Buffy tried to gut her is on display, but she's kind of forgotten the slim line of scar tissue is something most people would find weird. "You got any idea what's up?"

[vampbogeyman]

Anita noted the skimpier attire Faith had been saddled with, though the scar didn't seem to register for more than a moment, other than to make a mental note that it looked like it had been made by a clean cut. Her own short sleeves had left the mess that was her left arm on display, raised scars trickling from the crook of her elbow like water. It had been awhile since she'd given up trying to cover it with clothing. She honestly didn't think about it much anymore.

"'Technical difficulties,' so sayeth our captors," Anita said dryly, holding up her tablet before sliding it into the pocket of her jeans. "Apparently they thought relocating us without giving a heads up was the thing to do. You alright?"

[thesecondslayer]

Faith doesn't raise an eyebrow at the scars; she's seen worse, and if she wasn't a slayer she'd have worse. She doesn't purposefully not look at them, but after a brief perusal she returns her gaze back to Anita's face.

"Yeah, I didn't even open mine up. I hate those freaking things." She really hates them; Faith currently holds the record for Person In Taxon Who Has Attempted To Messily Destroy Their Tablet the Most Times. C4 might have played in, at one point. "Jesus, freaking hamsters. And yeah, I'm fine. Pissed, but fine."

[location: third floor kitchen | visual]

[selfmadman]

Sleep doesn't come easily anymore. Even when it comes quickly it's like slamming into a wall-he wakes ringing from a half-remembered impact. He wakes up tired. He wakes up shaken. He wakes up choking on air

[visual]

[slayersidekick]

Willow's checking the tablets as she sits in her room, trying to figure out what's going on. Glancing around at the... non-existent areas, her eyes land on Don's transmission.

"Hey... what are you doing?"

That looks like... blood... in a kitchen?

[visual]

[selfmadman]

Don's anticipating interruption but the voice startles him all the same; a twitch of his fingers and the blood spills a little too close to the sink's edge, scattering stray drops down the front of his top.

"Shit," he mutters.

He finishes off the bag, snips open another with a pair of scissors. As he resumes pouring he picks up the tablet with his free hand, studying the young woman on the screen, committing her face to memory.

"I'm doing us all a favor," he says grimly.

[visual]

[slayersidekick]

Wait. Willow's groggy head finally comes around to just what this means. "H-hey! Is that blood?"

That's just not cool. By now, she's made it to the floor below her own. The scenery is shifting around her as she walks, though, and she's wearing a rather upset expression.

"You can't do that!"