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 ( Read more... )

When Buffy Summers closes her eyes, she sees dust. Potential dust. Dust that could potentially end up being her little sister. The thing is...she knows she doesn't have to dust the girl. She knows she only has to lock her up. Get her into that tomb. Take care of things. But it doesn't stop the possibility from haunting her mind. And so the Slayer ( Read more... )

This broadcast is not accidental, although it may seem like that's the case. Max is sitting at her kitchen counter, an empty glass cradled in her hands and a bottle containing a bright blue liquid sitting nearby. She's staring at the counter top, not really looking at anything in particular, and it's a significant amount of time, probably a few ( Read more... )

For the first time in a while, Willow's making a visual transmission instead of relying on audio or replying visually to someone else. She's accepted - as much as she can, anyway - that Tara has pulled a Buffy: she's gone. The aliens sent her home. Still, that doesn't mean that her disappearance doesn't hurt. It hurts a lot and Willow's pretty sure ( Read more... )

It's been a couple days since the attack and her phone call to Don, and Mattie's feeling better physically, but still a little wrung out emotionally. Mostly that manifests in being very quiet and trying convince Don to let her cook meals for him, and a noticeable absence of tiny sternfaces. There's a lot on her mind, however, and one or two ( Read more... )

For a moment the screen is at a crazy angle, and fingers smeared with blood scrabble over the glass, leaving red messy trails on the broadcast ( Read more... )

( Paul Smecker maintains a list of scents he doesn't wish to smell ever again... (all my usual teal deer) )

The changeover is a subtle one; one moment, Dawn stretches and rolls over in bed, rubbing at her eyes sleepily. (Taxon: great for naps, when things are boring instead of falling apart.) The next moment she jolts upright, face confused.

"What the hell." She looks around, then down at her plain tee shirt and shorts with distaste. "Ugh. Who dressed ( Read more... )

When the haphazardly tossed tablet skittered across the work table and clicked on, it broadcast a scene of Invention In Progress ( Read more... )

Because, once again, Willow cannot face the tablet network that is Taxon, she is making this post audio. It's clear from the way her voice cracks that she's been crying. She is officially a mess. It's not like Tara to disappear like this, which makes her wonder something she doesn't want to even think about.

What if Tara's gone...?

Willow, honestly, ( Read more... )