exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

Date: September 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. 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

[Poppy wishes she could say she didn't mean to stare, but it's a bit too late for that now. So her mind gets to work on how to save face.]

... Hungry?

[She offers up the box of cookies. This isn't awkward at all. Nope.]

No, thanks.

[He smiles slightly, trying to make her feel better for staring. He's used to stares.]

'Preciate the offer, though.

Right. You're sure-? They're bound to run out soon, you know.

[... Shut up, Poppy.]

[A throaty, rusty chuckle]

Yeah, I'm sure.

Can't eat with this jaw.

[He taps his chin]

Besides, you should be saving 'em for the newcomers. They could use all the comfort they can get.

Oh. I'm - [She's what? Let's just try to brush it off with a hand gesture and shake our head along with it.] Sorry, I didn't realize.

[She pauses, looking down and wondering just when she turned into an awkward teenager again.]

But, well - I think we deserve a little comfort just as much as the rest. We work hard, right?

Right. But on days like this we're working hard to make sure these guys all come in okay.

...Well...

As okay as they can be given the circumstances.

[He blows out a disdainful snort that carries with it the soft thrum of machinery.]

Trust me, I still know what you're talking about quite well. [a pause; then her tone becomes a little more explanatory.] It's been a month for me.

Still pretty new, yeah.

Holding up okay?

As well as I can be, I suppose. It's been quite... quiet, from what I understand.

We're in the eye of the storm, I think.

[He reaches up and scratches his head, wondering if that metaphor sounded clever. It was an original one, right?]

It'll probably get real hectic again soon and it'll happen without warning.

[It... certainly makes sense.]

I certainly hope not. I can't say I'm enjoying my time here, but I certainly don't want it to get any worse.

Nobody does. But...well, it's war.

War is never pleasant. Or peaceful.

...It's the opposite of peace, really.....

Yes, yes it is. [ugh. she looks around.]

Still, it's... I'm glad to see people do whatever they can to help one another. I'm not sure how I would have dealt with it otherwise.

That I agree with.

We have a lot of shit to deal with already, between the UE and the Exiles, last thing we need is to fight amongst ourselves.

[It happens still, he knows. So far those incidents have been mercifully few and far between.]

Very true. Which is why we're handing out these biscuits, I hope. Peace offering.