01 | holo | location: sanctuary | ARRIVAL

[freaks_myword]

Death felt hot, and dark, and loud and silent all at the same time.  And it kind of tickled.

It wasn’t over like all the storybooks said it would be. There was no warm wash of air, or pretty clouds or glowing white light and the smiling face of her dead grandfather.  It wasn’t even close to falling asleep.  It was too bright for that.  It was too

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[visual]

[poisonousparty]

A new arrival.

Party takes his mask off, because a new arrival means a potential ally he can swing to his side. The bubbly little resistance he's been desperately trying to cobble together since arriving here only a few days ago.

"Hey, Tumbleweed." It's a name that just spills out, half because it's what you called a stranger when you're out in the zones and half because her hair is kind of frizzy and reminds him of the weird bits of shit that just moved on by Route Guano.

"There's no dragons here. Least, I've not seen them, but welcome to hell."

[visual]

[freaks_myword]

Gwen turns at the sound of a voice, but no visitor stands on a welcome mat to greet her. Just those ugly metal walls. But, you know, she doesn't want to look stupid, so she just rolls with it.

"Excuse me?" She asks in response to the baffling nickname, and then notices the fancy gadget on the pedestal. There's a face of a stranger on it. She walks closer now, eying it warily and not sure if she should take the gloves out and fry it, just to make sure.

"Funny thing, I just came from hell, and it was a lot more fire and brimstone. And not to be rude, but who the hell are you?"

[visual]

[poisonousparty]

Party's eyebrows shoot up, but otherwise he keeps a pretty good poker face. He learns a lot from his brother, even if said brother is younger--like how to keep it together and act like nothing's ever going on.

Hell, huh? Party doesn't believe in hell--because surely he's lived in it long enough--but there's a hint of amusement in hazel eyes. He's in the back of his beat up, spray painted trans-am, having literally just woke up from a solid power nap.

"Relax, I'm on your side," He assured. "Name's Party Poison. Grab the little thing and you can get outside just fine."

[visual]

[freaks_myword]

Outside. Outside the metal box sounded just fine to Gwen. Comparatively, it had to measure up better than a rooftop in a Helled up version of Los Angeles, where dragons roamed the sky like birds and she'd volunteered herself for the cleanup.

"Party Poison, huh? Sounds more like frat boy drink to me, sugar. And what makes you think you know what side I'm on?"

Still, she picks up the Tablet, not knowing exactly what it was but keeping her gloves on. If this was her way out, who was she to ruin her own fun? And sure enough, when she held the toy surprise in her hands, the sound of doors whooshing open echoed in the chamber and startled her. "Huh. Even Hell's all high-tech," she remarks with a little bitter smile, surveying the gadget in her hand and the face looking at her behind its screen. "Guess some things never change."

[ visual ]

[bonescientist]

"Mars is very much uninhabitable, actually."

Brennan forgoes pleasantries and skips to the point, doggedly clinging to information she personally believes to be factual. She's been to Taxon for almost a year now and she's still having trouble accepting that there's always a possibility that wherever (or whenever) this newcomer is arriving from, Mars could be inhabitable. She really should leave welcoming new arrivals to those who are actually good at it.

The anthropologist frowns, trying to make sense of the other woman's rant. Dragons and vampires. Well, at least she'd find the latter ones here. "I feel I should point out it's a very strong possibility that whichever group you believe you're addressing is not here."

[ visual ]

[freaks_myword]

"At this point, I think I'd take my chances."

Gwen stares at the visual of someone else on the device in her hand. And while a welcoming wagon of strangers might ease someone's fears, it stokes hers. She'd spent the last few months leading the meet-and-greet with the poor little damsels of L.A and sheltering them. She did not like being at the other end of the rope.

And this is why Gwen also forgoes all pleasantries.

"Mind telling me where 'here' is, honey? I'm a little slow on the uptake, here."

[ visual ]

[bonescientist]

Brennan's blue eyes narrow just a fraction, the honey rubbing her the wrong way. But, she makes no comment upon it.

"I realize this will sound preposterous, but you have been abducted by aliens," Brennan explains bluntly. "This city is called Taxon. There's a small group of us here, other people similarly taken from their worlds and brought here. The prevailing hypothesis is that this is some sort of interdimensional social experiment. Some seem to liken it to a zoo where we are the attractions."

She pauses, lifting her chin a bit. "And my name is Dr. Temperance Brennan. Not honey."

...Okay, so she had to comment upon it.

[visual]

[freaks_myword]

There was a lot of polysyllabic blabbing going on that Gwen had half the attention span to follow, but she did hear the words Taxon (never heard of it), zoo, and aliens.

The idea of being put in a zoo where people could look at the pretty freak with the electricity shooting from her body did not make her a happy girl. No, it did not make her happy at all.

She smiled, just a little, at the woman's defiance. Her voice was softer. In certain situations (when her client wasn't a complete jackass who needed putting down), her thieving days taught her how important it is to adapt to her client's vibe, like slipping into a costume, making them feel at ease and willing to trust her with whatever they needed done. She was on edge, not to mentioned scared, but some habits were like riding a limousine.

"Sorry, Doc, it's been a long day. Really. You have no idea. Are you from L.A too?" she asked with that tangible note of interest.

[tothelightshown]

Every new arrival was different. Some were scared and some were simply furious, with the latter usually a lot louder than the former. She'd never heard any of them mention dragons before, though.

"You lost me when you mentioned dragons."

She knew they existed - they'd had one resident in the city for a little while, during Long's glitch - but they were still an alien concept for DG. Her home in Kansas had been almost painfully normal and her memories of the O.Z were patchy. Too patchy to help her remember the native wildlife.

"Real dragons?"

[freaks_myword]

Gwen nodded, eying this new stranger with suspicion. How else was she supposed to eye them? In Los Angeles, maybe, she could handle whatever they were and not even get dust on her leather pants. Targets, freaks, helpless, demons. Throw a vampire with a soul in now and then and home sweet home. She fit in and she didn't, at the same time. There were so many surprises that you couldn't be surprised. Speaking of.

"Real dragons. I think one of them might have been a dinosaur."

A pause.

"Who are you?"

[tothelightshown]

The suspicious look was understandable, given the circumstances that the new arrival had found herself in, so DG wouldn't judge her for it. She hadn't take her own kidnapping particularly well either.

That seemed like a long time ago, now.

"Wow," she said, in response to the dragon, then: "Sorry, I should have started with that. I'm DG. Welcome to Taxon."

[freaks_myword]

"Taxon..."

It was the first time she'd heard its name. It didn't sound like a place of fun and leisure. Didn't really sound like a prison, either. It sounded like...a country club where lawyers went to golf. And suddenly that Wolfram and Hart theory was looking a little less crazy.

"I'm Gwen. And...uh, you wanna tell me a little about this place, DG? Exit sign would be nice."

[a_pretty_fire]

Mars was a planet that Drusilla knew well, though she had never visited. She'd seen it glowing in the sky on more than one occasion. During the Boxer Rebellion. Above Europe at the beginning of the twenty first century. Even over Sunnydale.

It wasn't here.

Not today.

"We aren't red. Mars is red."

And dragons belonged to fairy tales were they were slayed by heroes with swords.

[freaks_myword]

Um.

"Right. Well, I can't think of a planet that's made of metal. You?"

Gwen eyed the woman warily, tugging on her gloves. "Gee, they brought the whole welcome wagon out for me, I guess. If it weren't for the kidnapping and post-death headache, I'd feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

[a_pretty_fire]

"I only watch from a distance," said Drusilla, as if that should have been obvious. Stars weren't like people. You had to be far away from them to make out the paths and the patterns.

"You died?" Suddenly, the woman on the tablet became a lot more interesting. Drusilla fixed her with bright eyes and something close to a smile on her crimson lips. "Did you hurt? Did your mother mourn you when you soul slipped away?"

[freaks_myword]

Gwen just nodded at the woman with the crazy eyes...Eyes that got a whole lot crazier when she asked about Gwen's death.

Or...non-death. Did she actually ever die? Was this death? The questions were too metaphysical for Gwen. Here she was.

"Supposed to. But here I am, so maybe I did it wrong." Okay. If Gwen was in a room with this woman, she'd be backing away slowly right about now. Her stare, her smile, even her British doll accent was seriously creeping her out. "And, uh, wouldn't know. I doubt it. No one mourns the freaks, right?"

[Audio] [So belated!]

[imperial_long]

"Dragons?" It's a man's voice that answers, a British accent that could come straight out of Masterpiece Theater.

"I should hope you don't make a habit of doing that..."

[Audio]

[freaks_myword]

Gwen was taken aback by the voice that did not accompany a face, like someone on speakerphone. It was an odd feeling. She'd talked to countless clients, most of them pretty sketchy, on the phone without meeting them. It wasn't ever her favorite mode of communication then, and it wasn't especially now.

"Not so much a habit as a 'They started it.'"

[Audio]

[imperial_long]

"Ah, well, if it was self-defense I suppose all things are permissible. How do you do? My name is Mayland Long."

Half a year in Taxon and he still hasn't managed to cure himself of inveterate old-fashioned courtesy, however much it may not be particularly welcome in a situation.

[Audio]

[freaks_myword]

Gwen...stares.

For a second. Two seconds. Give her like, five here, before she realizes she's being rude.

"Hi there," she finally says, uncertain. She's looking at you strange, Maylong Long, because she seriously considering reinstating her robot theory. But he's new, and she doesn't know where he stands, so she treats him like she would treat any new client at the typical meet-and-greet. With a soft and approachable smile, she says, "I'm Gwen Raiden. You--uh, you work here, Mayland Long?"