exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[This guys appears out of the crowds without making a sound. At least, not from his mouth. He's a little wet from the rain as he squeezes his way through the crowd and ends up somewhere close to Adam. He's not looking for a chat, nor is he looking for a friend.

But he turns toward Adam and walk straight toward him when he sees the guy lighting a smoke. Once there he fishes a box out of his pocket, raises it to show Adam and cocks his head slightly to the side. Care to share your light?]

[ Well, good, because Adam's not exactly looking for any deep conversation himself, either--though he does not particularly mind sharing a light. A drink or a smoke is probably the first thing people want and/or need when arriving here... maybe next time he should give some of that stuff away for free, to go with Jesse's questionable cookies.

He gives the other man a very flat look and stops halfway when he's about to put his zippo away again, igniting the flame once more while shielding it from the weather with the other hand. ]

[He appreciates it, and shows that with a nod of his head. Tucking a cigarette between his teeth, he leans in to light it with Adam's lighter. He takes a long, slow breath once it's burning.

He doesn't smoke often, but after waking up in a strange world so suddenly this is the best thing he could have, right now.

As he smokes, he looks up at Adam and watches him quietly. Not exactly suspicious or trying to pry; it's just a place to keep his eyes.]

[ Given what Adam is, he's fairly used to people staring at him, but that still doesn't mean he appreciates it much. Of course he has to assume the other guy wants to ask some questions but isn't sure how to word them, since he isn't leaving just yet... ]

What?

[ He'd add, something in my face? but yeah that's kinda a pointless question. ]

[He meets the question with a minuscule tilt of his head. He was wondering what was in your face.

But he wasn't going to ask that because it's Rude.]

[ Rrgh that's still rude. He'd actually prefer if the guy just said what was on his mind instead of tilting his head and giving him that look. ]

Ask already.

[He's tempted to let the guy get angry by staying silent, but he decides against it because that's a stupid way to start his stay here. He takes a drag of his cigarette, sighs out the smoke.]

Injury?

[He wishes his brother were here so he could leave all the talking to him. Sigh.]

[ And here Adam thought HE wasn't very talkative. Good to know he's not all that bad. He frowns, unseen, behind his glasses. ]

Guess that's one way to put it. Does it matter?

[He shrugs. It didn't matter to him, though the prospect of fewer cats falling victim to his curiosity might nearly be enough to make him ask questions of strangers. It seems he has no other choice anyway. Gestures just couldn't cover everything, nowadays.

But he's not an animal rights' activist and the curiosity doesn't burn enough to make him ask what's up with Adam's hand because he's never seen a prosthetic arm like that in his life. Maybe it's a future thing (it's gotta be). He just takes another drag of his cigarette and sighs smoke into the space between them.]