(no subject)

[initiates]

Date: February 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings, while older Transports are returning from the mission to Uruguay.
Warnings: None.

While those who have been guests of Exsilium since at least the last wave of Transports return from their desperate mission and are pressed out of the Transporter room and into the Courtyard, the Initiative prepares to receive a second wave at the same time. And if you're in that second wave, the fresh meat, then you've just been hustled and bustled through mazes of information and literal, wide corridors of the Initiative Hold and you've been equipped with your weapon—be it a gun, a sword, or even your existing powers. They've handed you this light netbook and a small pouch of coins (or a debit card, if you're more inclined), and there are several Transports before and after you going through the very same motions. You can hear the Greeter's voice as she walks alongside large groups, telling them all about the history of this place and sharing with you your purpose here in a hurried and urgent tone. "You're in luck that we have enough rooms for all of you; the housing building is getting awfully full. Please, let me show you into the courtyard."

You pass what looks like huge gymnasiums, all with dummies and targets strewn and splayed around the room. Training areas. There are even classrooms, and a few small offices. You're rushed past a large library while the Greeter informs you that you can find almost all your information there, if you've got the time to look—and trust her, you'll have time. You don't spend a lot of time in the bank, and it's a bit of a blur of exchanges with more and more of these strangely-accented and oddly polite-seeming members of the Initiative.

Soon enough, you're in a massive courtyard bustling with all the other Transports. It's not exactly what you'd expect, and it looks more like barracks than anything—huge walls of concrete and stone, separating you from all of the hallways you'd just passed through. It's raining heavily, and dark clouds loom in the air, though it hasn't turned to snow. It's a chill cold, and there are shelters—long cloth hangings that extend from the walls of concrete to house you from the rain, but not enough. Most notably, the courtyard is filled with a marketplace. Even in the cold and the rain, there are several citizens seated at their covered booths and tables, bundled up against the weather. They're selling all manner of their own handmade goods and foods, and citizens and Transports alike are traveling from one small covered shop to another in search of all manner of necessities.

The Greeter's voice has become so faint now, but you swear you can make it out in the back of the crowds as she tells you, "Good luck. Be safe!"

Her voice is drowned out by the busy marketplace, though even the transactions taking place are somewhat subdued. Nobody is overly happy, really, though most citizens can be found with smiles on their faces. It doesn't seem like they're that shocked to see you, either; even if you're not bound in tattered rags and wrapped in heavy shawls as they are. You're welcome to walk up to a shop, and find yourself something to eat—hey, maybe you'll even find something akin to a raincoat. Or, you can join the others under the coverings against the walls. Where am I? What war? She was talking so fast, and it didn't all make very much sense… did anyone else catch it all?

Welcome to the courtyard. Welcome to the Initiative Hold—and most importantly, welcome to Exsilium

Comments

Elliot Nightray | OPEN

[nobleminded]

[A young man dressed in very fancy clothes is a few feet away from the food table, just staring at it. It's almost like he's trying to figure something out about it from the frown on his face.

Of course, you'd have to be pretty easygoing to notice the look on his face. Most people would probably first notice the fact that his fancy clothes are completely covered in blood. Whoever's it is, it certainly doesn't look like they were in a good situation. So maybe he's actually just contemplating where he can get a change of clothes?

...On second thought, he's still frowning at the food. Whatever he's considering about that is apparently more important than his clothes right now.]

[concealingeyes]

[Someone's life looks like it was recently ruined. He probably doesn't want to be bothered.

Which is why a girl appears out of seemingly nowhere next to him to be helpful.]

I saw raincoats earlier.

[nobleminded]

[And Elliot suddenly goes tense and scoots away from her a few inches.]

DON'T JUST SNEAK UP ON PEOPLE LIKE...!

[All right, wait, there was an offer for some kind of coat. Did this have to do with his obviously ruined clothes? Taking a second to get a hold of himself a little.]

A raincoat? Why are you telling me this?

[concealingeyes]

[She's mostly used to getting the first reaction. The second, though...]

Look at how you're walking around. It makes you look creepy. You should put on a raincoat at least.

Re: Elliot Nightray | OPEN

[designatedhealer]

[Mia wasn't at all familiar with this place just yet, but having seen the blood-soaked young man, there was no way she could just ignore him. Whether that blood was his or not, something terrible had clearly happened...]

Excuse me... are you in need of healing?

[nobleminded]

[Yes, yes it did. And considering it JUST happened, he's not too keen on talking about it at this second. Give him another day or two...

He frowns at her for a moment, seeming more taken aback than anything. However, he looks down at his clothes and thinks for a moment.]

Am I...?

[Elliot stares at his clothes for a while, like he's trying to figure out if he's injured or not. Then again, it would be hard to tell with that much blood no matter how it got there.]

No, I'm not. It's fine.

[designatedhealer]

[He seems to be in shock... Mia's seen that happen quite a few times. It does make her worry, but she knows better than to press it.]

If you're certain...

[She clasps her hands behind her back - he could say it was fine, but she would feel much better if he at least got a little bit of healing, anyway. Sneaky casting wasn't her specialty, but at least this way he wouldn't see her glowing hands as she prepared a Ply, just o clear up any injuries that might be hiding under those blood-stained clothes.]

You're new, aren't you? It looks like there's a lot of us that have just arrived.

[debugerror]

[He's seen many strange sights since he arrived; taken them with the aplomb of a magus' son; hell, a Matou's son.

The blood certainly gives him pause, though the boy gives no indication of being injured (he knows exactly what it looks like, inside and out) -- but it's the incongruity between his expression, the bloody clothes, and the food that makes Kariya stop walking and approach, stopping at about arm's length.

It's a war.

He doesn't reach out with hand but voice; speaking gently, but with the state of his throat 'gently' never comes out quite right.]

You -- are you hurt?

[When the half-dead-looking dude is asking you that you might want to rethink your life choices -- well.]

[nobleminded]

[Heh, "life choices". Considering he wasn't thinking he'd need to make any of those again, he's not fully on his game.

Elliot looks at him with a small confused and annoyed frown before glancing away.]

It doesn't appear that I am. What about it?

[debugerror]

[Happens to the best of us. Then again, you really don't want to start making death choices, those aren't very much fun at all.

Kariya isn't put off by the frown -- in fact, he's rather used to that sort of expression, except from a face much closer to his knees. His lopsided gaze is steady, even if he doesn't raise his face. Better that way.]

We are supposedly in a war. They should be able to get you new clothes, at least.

[Since upon closer inspection, them's really not fighting clothes. Unless the Initiative's just started throwing its diplomats bodily at the enemy.]

1/AHAHA

[velveteened]

( oz drifts to the food table for one reason only - he's pretty sure he sees cake. he's taking a look at the assortment to see if he really can identify any cakes or anything familiarly sweet even, when he glances up in thought.

it's hard to say what he notices first - maybe the familiar frame, the sandy hair so unlike his sister's, the bloodstained clothes he can still see any time he closes his eyes and even when he doesn't, or maybe the frown he's seen directed his way so much. whichever it is, he freezes in place like a startled animal, eyes going wide.

he can still hear the scream ringing in his ears, leo's raw agony given voice, can still see the unmoving, bloody figure on the ground that was all that was left of elliot nightray, can feel the growing horror in his chest that had choked him, is choking him now, reminding him of stupid impossible hopes and promises they'd made. he'd asked for.

elliot died - )

[velveteened]

( and leo, leo who had blamed himself and the will of the abyss and wanted to destroy her, had tried to get oz on his side, had set jabberwock on him to throw him into the abyss, leo who's hurting and hiding behind his identity as glen, as someone on the side of justice, who's trying to do who knows what with vincent nightray backing him - )

[velveteened]

( there's no way elliot could possibly be standing there. it's impossible -

- and they're supposedly in yet another dimension at war, and he's ten years displaced and carries pieces of jack's soul, and alice and gil and vincent have some connection to the tragedy of sablier, and break's wish was granted by the will of the abyss, and leo is a baskerville. )

[velveteened]

( filtering through the shock is the old desire to turn heel and run, not deal with what he doesn't want to deal with, because he's weak and he's a coward even if the people around him are none of these things, everyone he loves is so brave, but he's never been able to run from elliot.

maybe it's not elliot. a mistake? a trap? an illusion like one of duke barma's, meant to hurt?

it's succeeding. )

okay done

[velveteened]

( he inhales sharply, and in the end that's all he's able to bring himself to do. )

Sob... Also 1/3

[nobleminded]

[Not only was he really not sure if he was hungry or not, Elliot was incredibly unsure of whether or not he was still capable of eating. He was dead, right? Dead people didn't eat.

But then again, if he was really dead, how could he be standing here? Was he really somehow alive again? He could still remember all the horrible things he had done without Humpty Dumpty trying to make him forget, so that certainly wasn't an issue anymore.

He starts to scan the table if only to see if an answer jumps out at him, when he spots a familiar face. Elliot stares back at him in surprise.]

[nobleminded]

[He knew that face. He didn't even have to question who that shorty was. What he couldn't figure out was why he was here.

Oz hadn't died too, had he? How could he have? Some of the blood on his clothes proved that Oz had been alive and fighting when he had died. So...what had brought him here?]

3/3

[nobleminded]

[With all these questions, there's only one thing to do!

Elliot suddenly points at him just before opening his mouth.]

Oz Vessalius?! What are you doing here?!

AND HERE IS YOUR DOUCHE ROOMIE -

[bloodyashes]

[So the conclusions Asch has drawn about this boy in the last few minutes?

Noble, spoiled as hell, and clearly won't have any idea what to do about getting those stains out.

So have some unwanted advice as your doesn't-realize-it-yet roomie strolls past, Elliot - ]

Soak those in cold water and scrub gently. You might not be able to save the white, though.

[What with the blood already starting to dry and all.]

YAY LET THE FUN BEGIN~

[nobleminded]

[And all true! If Elliot was more on his game right now, this guy might be on par with his own skills of perception.

Maybe.

He seems a bit surprised at this sudden advice from the stranger (and wow, what was with that hair?), but due to the linger shock he's not certain if he feels offended or not. Especially since he really needs some clothes that don't illustrate the nightmare of the day he's had. So he'll settle for something in the middle.]

Scrub them with what? Where am I supposed to get these washed in the first place?

[bloodyashes]

[Aaaah, to be a spoiled noble again with no concept of how laundry works. Alas, not for him.]

With your hands, obviously. I doubt anyone's going to do it for you here.

[Har har Asch, har har.]

Laaaaate!

[maddeninghatter]

[ Perhaps, Elliot, you haven't noticed the fellow in a ragged, crudely-stitched raincoat and a hat, huddled under an umbrella.

He's easy to overlook. He's standing a few feet from the food table and hasn't moved for some time. Apparently. But if you were to look closely, you might notice that the supply of sweets is dwindling at an astonishingly rapid rate. Or that he's been listening intently to your conversations.

Now he stirs, lifting the brim of his hat, revealing a fringe of bright white hair - and an enormous grin. ]

Awfully noiiiiiiiiisy, aren't you?

I do not know of what you speak! Also 1/2

[nobleminded]

[Well of course he didn't notice him, a poor man minding his own business was hardly Elliot's concern. Especially after the day he'd had. So at suddenly being address, he becomes noticeably tense right after he hears the voice.]

What the...?! It's not my fault if you were eavesdropping, I just...!

2/2

[nobleminded]

[Wait.

That hair. That expression. Maybe if Elliot hadn't faced him 26 times and idolized him from the shadows the rest of that time, he might not have recognized him this quickly. But it couldn't be...could it?

Well, if Oz was here obviously this place wasn't limited to the dead. Because there was no way this guy was dead. Not even after fighting the Baskervilles.]

Are you...Xerxes Break?

[maddeninghatter]

Got it in one~! Now I'll play: you are Elliot Nightray.

[ A beat. His broad grin flickers. ]

The late Elliot Nightray.