(no subject)

[initiates]

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.

Comments

Anne Boleyn [OPEN]

[ensorceler]

[ It would be easy to dismiss this as a dream, perhaps anyone might in the beginning, but there is nothing in Anne Boleyn's imagination that could come close to such insanity. The woman, the building, the tablet, the sky itself, all of the information — they could not have come from her mind, even if this could once be called Britain. It's too alien; too much.

When she is finally left on her own in the courtyard, or rather on the edge she remains under an awning so she doesn't become too soaked, she stands stock still at first, long sheathed knife clutched tightly in one hand, with the folded tablet and a book in the other. After some mental back and forth, and another paranoid look around, the woman unfolds her tablet to begin experimenting. She never looks at it long, glancing up every few seconds as if she rightly expects someone might appear out of nowhere to try and kill her. She's no soldier or diplomat, as much as she enjoys debating, and she's certainly not hungry for whatever these people may call food. Realistically she might just throw up anything offered to her, whether it be gruel or veal. Right now she just needs something to focus on, and this is something. ]

What manner of magic—

[ She looks down at the small screen while tapping at it, hoping she doesn't look as scared as she feels. If she's a woman on her own, the last thing she wants to do is look too vulnerable. She does need help, at least for now, but what magic this device uses she doesn't want to rely on, and doesn't understand yet in the least, so with a huff of defiance she throws the tablet onto the ground and whirls to attempt to backtrack towards the library that was supposed to be oh-so-helpful. Maybe she would even find a person who could speak sense, because no matter what she sees and hears, nothing is clicking at all in her head. She's still in too much shock to even yet have a fright for her family's sake and whereabouts.

Soon, though, no doubt. Who wants to handle this soon-to-be mess? ]

[governorkang]

[Kang is just leaving the courtyard, having no luck finding anyone from home yet again. He knows there's still a chance of it, though, despite the frustration he feels; he'll know in a few days for sure.

He'd especially been hoping to see his mate.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn't see the human woman until he bumps into her, automatically putting out a hand to catch her in case she falls.]

Ah, sorry, ma'am.

[He's taller than a human, at seven feet, and the scales covering him have a dark bronze sheen to them. The rain slides right off of his wings and heavy cloak, dripping from curling horns.]

[ensorceler]

[ Well, what would any sane woman do when forced to look up at such a sight? Anne isn't the sort who is prone to superstition, she'll leave that to the Catholics, but there's no denying the giant looming over her. And how to handle it? There really is no thought other than fight or flight as she lets out a blood-curdling scream, dropping her other belongings so that she can try to yank the blade from it's sheathe. There's no give, so she just tries to smack his outstretched hand away with the scabbard while rapidly backing away, even if that means out into the rain. ]

Keep your distance!

[governorkang]

[...that's the reaction he's used to from human women. He inwardly sighs, and deliberately takes a step back, keeping his hands away from the sword and dagger at his side.]

I know how I look, ma'am, but I assure you, I don't mean you any harm.

[He notices the clothing, and while it's not a Krynnish style, he can tell that she's nobility, or very well off. Respectfully, he bows slightly, just in case it's the former.]

[ensorceler]

[ The fact that it's talking to her rather than attacking her should bring more comfort, but she's just cursing her luck that her knife is a useless one. Okay, Anne, just concentrate on not shaking too obviously. Of all the things she's seen and heard, this might be the straw to finally draw proper alarm out of her. ]

What do you want of me, then?! I will make no exchanges with a demon! I will have none of this at all. Return me home.

[governorkang]

[It isn't the first time he's been called a demon.]

I am Lord-Governor Kang, of Teyr; I am a draconian. I'm in the same situation as you, being brought here against my will.

[fantasticforcefields]

[The girl looks lost and frightened, and who can blame her? Judging by her clothes, she's from a time when she has no possible reference for this sort of thing. Sue retrieves the discarded tablet from the ground and follows Anne.]

Miss? I know this is a lot to take in, but you really don't want to lose your tablet.

[While her voice is kind, Sue's appearance is not calculated to instill confidence in someone from Tudor England. Her Fantastic Four costume, which she wears to greet new arrivals so people from home can notice her--and because it's waterproof--is skintight and bright white and unstained in a way it takes industrial chemistry to achieve. Her hair is clean and neat, but hanging entirely loose. She looks, in short, like she ran away before her ladies could finish dressing her, though she carries herself with perfect confidence despite her state of (culturally dependent) disarray.]

[ensorceler]

[ Still shaken by the enormity of what she's seen, Anne almost doesn't hear the other woman's voice, or at least not quite catching what it is she says. Perhaps that could be blamed on the rain coming down around them, or just shock.

Well, a half-naked woman is not the worst thing she's seen yet, but even in such a state, Anne still has the gall to appear slightly miffed at the blonde's appears anyway.

She's behaving kindly at least, isn't she? That's when Anne notices the outstretched tablet, and she reluctantly reaches out to take it back. ]

What use is this to me? I was told there are books that are freely available, and I am capable of writing with mine own two hands.

[fantasticforcefields]

[Any disapproval washes off Sue like the rain from her exotic costume.]

It's far more than a book.

[She's not sure how to convey what a computer or a wireless network is to someone from before even telegraphs existed, except by defaulting to magic, and that might not produce the most positive reaction from someone from the Middle Ages. Still...]

It will let you communicate with anyone else who has one, even across the city.

[Sue will just conveniently leave off any explanation of how that works unless asked, and hope she doesn't get asked.]

[ensorceler]

[ Not quite as far back as the Middle Ages! Late Renaissance is not much better, though, unless you happened to be best friends with certain inventors. She...was not.

And her attempt to keep it simple is admirable, but Anne won't suffer that. ]

I had heard, but merely dismissed such a notion. How is this possible?

[fantasticforcefields]

[Sue might know that, but apparently her player doesn't, oops.

She's not surprised at the question, but purses her lips for a second as she thinks.]

It's a very sophisticated machine. Judging by your dress--and it's lovely, by the way--your...people [she narrowly avoids saying "universe"] won't know how to create something like it for hundreds of years.

[She's so busy trying to simplify the concept of electronics, she misses that she's just tangentially introduced time travel into the conversation.]

[lifemelody]

[Dagger usually comes to see the new transports. Usually she keeps an eye out for people that she might recognize (several months and still no one since Zidane), but this woman catches her eye. What more, the fact that she seems so upset about this. She recognizes that look. Someone that's in over their head, but doesn't want to admit it]

[After all, that was her when she arrived too]

[Deciding to be nice, she'll follow after. She picks up the tablet from the ground, and wipes it with her sleeve of mud. She then follows after the lady]

Miss? I'm sorry, but you don't want to lose this.

[ensorceler]

[ Nooo — Why isn't a single familiar looking person in her line of sight at all? None that seem to even be from her world, let alone...timeline? She should be happy she isn't been outright attacked yet, but Anne still hasn't ruled out that possibility, even from an innocent looking (and tragically dressed) young woman.

Her nose begins to crinkle at the offered tablet, but with a polite, if somewhat muted nod, it's accepted back. ]

Why is it that you are sorry?

[ Perhaps she was only half listening. ]

[lifemelody]

[Excuse you traffic cone orange is perfectly fashionable!!]

As sympathy. I arrived here five months ago, but I still remember how...frustrating my first days were here.

[She won't say upsetting or scary, she knows those are words not to use]

[ensorceler]

Months?

[ That she hears, and it's upsetting and scary enough, thank you. ]

Poor girl... How have you fared?

[lifemelody]

[She frowns a little]

I've been well enough. The situation isn't ideal, but...I make do.

[deducta]

[The rain is coming down really hard at this point and the only thing Joan can do is head for the first piece of shelter she can find. The tablet is tucked under her cardigan although it isn't doing much good, her cane clutched tight to her body and her saddle bag bouncing on her hip as she runs. It just so happens that she ends up in the awning right next to Anne, trying to take up as little space as possible beside her.]

Sorry! I promise I'll only be a minute I just need to find the map to the -

[Her words halt, stuck in her throat when she sees her face. A pit of anger sits in her stomach and her body posture immediately changes. The hair is darker but the face is the same, and it's not one she would be so quick to forget. Let the case of mistaken identity begin?]

[ensorceler]

[ Anne is quick to make room for the woman, for she seems in quite a hurry for someone who carries a cane. Only mildly curious at her strangeness, preoccupied with all of the other abnormalities around her. Assuming she merely cuts off because she's out of breath, Anne tries to offer a dazed but amiable smile as she nods and steps further away to give her more space, but when she looks to the woman's face to respond, Anne's stricken by the expression of the other woman.

Did she not give her enough space, or something? She knows she hasn't erred, so what's her problem? Well, she glances to the cane again, then her legs. ]

No need at all to offer apologies, for I am certain I am as lost as you. Do you require assistance in anything?

[deducta]

[This has to be some kind of trick of this world. Different people's faces who are entirely different people...It looks enough like Irene, but the way she carried herself, even the choice of words - it was all very different from the woman she had encountered for a short time. Joan hesitates, taking another momet to still her mind, to calm down, to do something other than ogle.]

Getting home would be nice, but I think everyone here is more or less stuck in the same situation. [Her smile is tight because she's still unsure about who this woman truly is.] I guess the first thing to do is figure out how to get to where I'm supposedly staying.

[ensorceler]

[ Yes, that is quite some ogling. Anne is partaking in her own, though, so there's no harm in it. ]

I have yet to discover where I am to go, but would it be well of us to trust any roof they offer? There is no knowing what awaits us.

[deducta]

I believe I saw assignments somewhere on this mail system...[Her voice trails off, but she nods at the woman's suspicions.] I don't like it either but I don't think we have much of a choice, considering everything they told us.

[deductus]

[There was no mistaking that face. A part of Sherlock wonders if he'd see the constellation of Auriga on her back, but this was clearly not the woman he knew. She holds herself differently, dressed differently and even if this could be her putting on a disguise there shouldn't have been a reason to fake a different time. Carefully holding a tortoise in one hand, he bends down to pick up her abandoned tablet.]

You've forgotten something.

[Sherlock looks a lot like a scruffy, half drowned rat. He hadn't let the rain deter him from looking around.]

[ensorceler]

[ Being approached by a man is forever different from being approached by a woman, no matter how oddly dressed, so Anne can't help but immediately try to stand a little taller, and hold the poignard a little tighter as she turns to find the owner of the voice.

At least the accent is familiar, more-so than the others she's heard, but he isn't dressed even remotely like anyone of note, so her curtsy and nod are subtle but polite before she reaches out to accept the tablet back purely so he doesn't hound her.

Anne would suspect him of giving her a strange look, but then wonders what her expression must be like. At least she isn't so stupid as to walk around with her mouth agape and tears in her eyes. She looks more angry than anything, at least whenever the shock feels like subsiding. ]

Would that I could forget it, sir, and everything else here. But I give you thanks, regardless.

[deductus]

[He'd called it his attic theory. The way his mind worked, only taking in information relevant to his work lest he forget something important to make room for irrelevant knowledge. But here it would have been useful to have some background knowledge on historical facts. Sherlock imagines Watson would roll her eyes and say I told you so if he ever informed her of what happened today.

He doesn't know much from her dress, but her body language says a little more. Wary and angry, he might say and it has him adjust his own responses accordingly as much as he could.]

If I may, you appear to be a new arrival. I've only just arrived myself. [He smiles friendlily, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.] It is a lot to take in, isn't it?

[He'd been taking it far better than most people despite his complete lack of experience in dimension hopping, but it didn't mean he couldn't empathise.]

[ensorceler]

[ But his smile only makes her suspicion flare further, and though she keeps her smile on her face, there's a sharper edge to it as she leans back, holding the belongings to her belly. ]

For true? And yet you look fit to woo a fair maiden and spend the day hunting and picnicking merrily in this most magnificent weather.

[ Well, maybe that was said a little too dryly, but it was an obvious lie, anyway. At least given his appearance, of course the horrible weather, and what is he holding??? Whatever, she'll still humor him with the barest of curtsies once more. ]

Forgive me for not announcing myself, sir. I am Anne Boleyn, if it please you.