exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Date: July 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

[Hello, very pink person! Have another very pink person (albeit much more scantily clad) wandering up and shivering.]

You have this shit climate all the time where you're from?

[No thanks.]

[Man in her neighborhood, she's seen it all, really. You aren't naked! This is a step up from some people! She kind of sighs heavily at the comment on the weather.]

Yeah, basically. We get maybe two months of sun in the summer, and the rest of the year is just rain, rain, rain. Only upside is that it doesn't get cold enough to snow much.

Ugh, even worse. And I thought my place was bad.

[Halfpipe. It is bad.]

A lot of people don't like the weather in Seattle, but I dunno, it's all I really know, so... [She shrugs. LIFE.]

So Seattle still exists where you're from?

....Yeah? Does it... not, where you're from?

[Ally, half of California sunk into the ocean in your world. Don't judge]

Well. It probably exists, just... not really as a city. More as... a giant shithole? Or a much bigger shithole than it was pre-nukes.

Wow. I mean, Chicago got nuked in my world, but I can't imagine things without the Metroplex.

Yeah, most of the world got nuked in my place, so...

[Shrugs.]

Halfpipe, by the way. Like the hair.

Man, sounds shitty. There's some hot zones in the Barrens, but most of it's pretty livable. [For a given standard of livable anyway]

And thanks! My name's Ally - your's is pretty sweet, too.

Eh, you know how it is. Humanity is the roach that lives on.

Mm. Haven't seen many others with the whole pink theme going on. A crying shame.

[She grins] Yeah, we've pulled through a lot I guess! And you're right - it's kind of sad, this place could use some more color, I think.

If the fuckin' rain wouldn't wash it all out.

Mmm, it shows up anyway! I painted some stuff outside our place in Seattle, and it's still pretty bright. It's nice in the winter - doesn't do anything but rain, then.

What stuff?

Well, most of a wall, and I did some designs on the road for fun, though they've mostly worn away.

A regular artist, I see.

[She shrugs, and grins] Hey, if you don't have anything better to do...

Boredom breeds creativity, I get it.

Yeah, pretty much. Particularly when everything around you is a dump.

Yeah. I never did much painting, though.

Well, I'm not that great at it or anything, but giant flowers don't require too much talent, luckily.

If you can't have 'em in real life, you may as well doodle them on an old brick wall.

Yeah, pretty much. We have some stuff that comes up in the spring that's kind of pretty, but most of it's weeds. Downtown has parks and stuff, but the Barrens... well, they get called that for a reason.

So how'd they get that way?