exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Date: June 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings. Now with 200% more People-Seeking lists!
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. Now and then around you you might spot paper fluttering in the faint wind from somewhere relatively dry. It looks like a list.

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

Yes?

( he turns to look at her, finds - ah, a frightened-looking (pretty) lady, distressed and hitting every ~~victorian~~ gentlemanly ping he was raised on, how ladies deserve protection. he offers her a smile, pitched to bracing. )

Are you alright?

[ The smile is returned in trembling degrees.

The boy is dressed somewhat in an older fashion, and he's quick to turn and even quicker to ask. A gentleman, she thinks, and she's glad of it for all the wrong reasons. Gentleman are easy to use and even easier to get rid of. ]

Thank you for asking, [ it comes out first because manners are important. ]

I just, um -- [ she swipes impatiently at one cheek, ] I had a lot of questions and they wouldn't answer any of them...

[ Her voice comes perilously close to breaking. ]

( that she's new doesn't take much of a leap to work out. after four months, he has at least an idea of what the transports look like, and today is of course the day of new arrivals. besides, she's clearly alarmed and unprepared for the weather, looking for some help amidst everything. )

Well, you're in luck! I can help you with whatever you need - so don't worry, alright?

Oh, ah -- [ and here she tilts her smile, drawing it fuller. She's charmed by his kindness, reassured by his calm words. He's being her hero, after all. A damsel always lets a hero know he's appreciated. ]

You're very kind. I promise I won't take up too much of your time.

( oz can be quite good at reading people, but right now what he sees is precisely what she wants him to; and he responds in kind, brightening and with more open gestures. )

It's no problem at all.

[ Oz, she may just decide to keep you. ]

Have you been here for a long time?

[ Dahlia looks for all the world like she's utterly fascinated by whatever his answer might be. ]

( yay... )

Four months, now.

( there's a hand that briefly finds its way to the back of his neck; it's still hard to admit rather than obliquely circle around the real answer. )

Though it may not be that long for you!

[ Four months is nothing after six years on death row, but that's the last thing Dahlia is about to admit. ]

You mean, we get released?

People get sent back by the transporter, but it seems to be as random as the selection.

[ Transporter? -- It only takes hearing him say the word for Dahlia to want to investigate it further. ]

That sounds dangerous!

[ Dangerous is bad.

Just look at these wide, frightened Bambi eyes. ]

No one's been hurt by it, right?

( oh no bambi eyes!! he leaps right into reassuring )

No, no! All it does is bring people here and send them back. ( they hope ) It may sound scary, but it's not really dangerous.

( at least not compared to all the other dangerous things around here. )

[ She calms visibly, his reassurance having done its job. ]

Do you know who operates it, um -- [ three, two... She gasps, straightening in her embarrassment. ] Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Dahlia. It's an honour to meet you, Mister...

Oz - just Oz. ( no need for anything more formal than that, after all, least of all from someone older. ) It's my pleasure, Dahlia.

( pleasantries that are easily delivered, after so much experience )

Oz, [ she repeats, her tone gentle and warm. Dahlia falls into step beside him, quietly indicating her desire to start walking as they speak. ]

Do you like living here, Oz?

( //////// c-cute.

he starts moving once he picks up on her cue, starting generally in the direction of housing. )

Do I like it...? ( seems like an odd question, but he recovers after a beat ) There are upsides to living here, if that's what you're worried about. A lot of the people here are very friendly.

[ "Cute" is what she aims for. ]

What sort of upsides?

[ If Oz is amenable, Dahlia will take his arm, fingers resting on his forearm in a very ladylike gesture. ]

( more than amenable, he's more than happy to let her take his arm. it's all terribly familiar of home, a change from all the - lovely! but strange modern people in this even stranger place. he never thought he'd miss the pleasantries, but here they are. )

Well - like I said, a lot of the people here are nice. Even the locals, even though we're the ones moving onto their island. You have to be careful, of course, but the city isn't that dangerous, either. Ah! And I don't know what time you're used to, but the technology can be fun.

[ Here they are indeed.

Dahlia's head ducks as he speaks; presumably it's meant to be a ladylike gesture, polite listening and thought. ]

Don't you want to go home at all, Mist— um, Oz?

( there's a slight waver she may notice, a slowed step before he takes the next, an aggressively light, bashful note when he answers. )

I think almost everyone does. It's only natural in a situation like this.

[ And notice it she does, but on the surface doesn't give the waver much attention. Her expression is as innocent and doe-eyed as it was a minute ago, but her mind is clear and taking in everything.

It's only for survival, or so Dahlia will tell herself. ]

Do you? [ she inquires again, her voice silk soft. ]

Of course.

( who wouldn't, he'd ask if he didn't know already. )

But it's better to make the best of a situation, right? I can't do anything about it right now.

You're right. [ It's easy to affect her voice as if she's agreeing wholeheartedly. ]

That's a really good attitude to have. I'll have to take a page from your book, Oz.

( visibly flattered! )

You seem to be taking everything pretty well yourself, though.

It's because I met such a kind person.

[ Dahlia is very good at vomiting in her mouth a little without it being externally noticeable. ]

( good at the courtesy game, he thinks, attributing it to coming from a similar sort of society as he did. )

I'm happy if I can help. Ah - ( and he gestures forwards at the building nearby he'd assumed for a destination she'd want. ) - this is the housing building. Your apartment will be here.