exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

Date: April 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings.
Warnings: None.

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 one is too small to stay rooted when someone bigger than him hulking around a backpack decides to bump him. Jericho hops a step back, scuffing the floor with a squeaky shoe to stop from making that two or more steps, shoulders hunching and head ducking. universal shy-guy excuse me, right?

or...who knows. there's too many universes on parade here.

he flashes a crooked, sheepish smile, still downcast at the apology. he shakes his head.

...blink.

oh.

he crouches, picking up the...muzzle? before giving the guy a more attentive, curious look.

is this his?]

[Oh, he feels even worse now. A hand moves out to help the boy, but finds no shoulder or arm to hold on to. Instead Peter watches him crouch, only half-following the movement to accept the muzzle back into his hands.]

That's - [Mine. But he apparently doesn't need to say it.] ... Thank you.

[he smiles small – a quick quirk at the corner of his mouth as he nods. no big deal.

and – oh! the timing. he starts a little, hearing the word newcomer rather loudly and goes with it, jerking his thumb in the sound's direction before pointing at him.

new, maybe?]

[His eyes follow Jericho's gestures, but attention isn't something he's really paying to their surroundings at the moment. With a small, hesitant shake of his head,] What...?

[ah-- er. Jericho winces a little, starting to look embarrassed. he quickly shakes his head, waving his hand to dismiss the notion. nothing, sorry! that wasn't the best way to go about it.

here, let him get the notebook out, flip to a clean(ish) page...

and...there. he turns it over, shrugging self-consciously.]

Are you new?

[He's still looking a little lost by the time Jericho takes out the notebook, watching him for another moment before his eyes glance down at the written words. Part of him wants to pick up the notebook for a closer look, but that wouldn't be very convenient for the other boy...]

Yes - [He nods, back on to making eye contact.] Yes, I am.

[ah. he nods, glad he was on the money as far as that goes. his smile quirks on one side, still a little shy, but no less interested in being of some help.

and, it's convenient he already has some stuff written down. like greetings.

he flips back a bunch of pages and turns it around:]
Hello. I'm Jericho :)

[Curiosity paints his expression, lips neutral until he sees the greeting. Then he can't help but produce a small smile of his own, nodding once or twice.]

Jericho. I'm Peter.

[he nods very pointedly, accepting the name, more or less trying to put it to memory (but with so many people around, who can be sure of that?). his head stays ducked a bit, smiling small. well, good! he got a hello and a name. but, ehm...

his gaze drops and flickers about, settling on his notepad. his hand twitches a little, tapping the pencil against the page. well. well what?

well, you're a teen superhero for one, Jericho, come on!

scritch, scratch...

and:]

Let me know if you need help getting around this place! It's kind of confusing at first...

[It's only slightly awkward waiting for him to finish writing whatever he's about to say next - Peter can't say he's ever had experience with anyone like him, so all he does is stand still and show patience. Once it's turned around and Peter's finished reading -]

Oh - that's very nice of you. Thanks. I think I'm all right, though. [er.] Do you need anything?

[He's not sure why he's asking.]

[auh...

no, no. Jericho shakes his head, smiling weakly. he's actually on the lookout! that's right...he needs to get back to said looking.

he holds up a hand, waves it a little, and starts backing off, turning his head before the rest of him and starting to meander away.]

[Oh - well. Okay then. Peter doesn't really know what to do with himself, so he just waves back lamely.]