(no subject)

[initiates]

Date: January 1st 8th
Location: The Transporter building.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports arrive and are shuffled through their initial briefings. Then... out into the cold?
Warnings: None.

Your arrival here has been very unceremonious. One second you were somewhere else, and now, very suddenly, your feet hit the glowing white of the Transporter pad, and you're here. You aren't alone, either. There's a crowd of others around you, each seeming just as bewildered, angry, or confused as you might feel. At the head of the group is a woman in purple robes, solemn and taciturn. She hurries over a quick overview of your intended purpose here, and gives direct answers when asked for them, but to most things she simply shows you how to access the tablet you've just been given, or tells you that the DITR's greeters will explain everything. On the tablet, you can find the history of this place and a record of what your new cohorts have experienced. You're guided through the armory and given a weapon, and though the armory is now greatly reduced, you should be able to find something to suit you.

You're currently in a large multi-roomed warehouse, graciously granted by the cagey and suspicious remains of the organization known as the Initiative. They don't know you or trust you, but they've given you leave to set up camp in one of the warmer corners of this building until you find a place of your own. And if you want to leave right now, step into the driving winter winds and never look back? Well, friend, you can be their guest.

Outside you'll find the wintery village of Exsilium, with most of its buildings permanently buried in snow and ice. There are tunnels underground to connect neighbor to neighbor to marketplace, and most of the people here use them, but you'll still see people braving the above ground weather here and there for a more direct route. They hardly glance at you, should you venture out among them — unless you don't look human. That hologram emitter the greeter pressed upon anyone non-human on arrival? Yeah, consider that very important to maintain good relations of any kind.

Welcome to the current reality of Exsilium.

Comments

Xerxes Break | OTA

[maddeninghatter]

[ Xerxes Break is usually found near the welcome tables on this day, generally engrossed in the very important business of stealing cookies intended for new arrivals. This time he's here in a slightly more official capacity, sitting briefly next to Chrysos, behind his table, then restlessly sprawling himself across it, until he's shouted at, and then it's back to sitting.

He is clad in 27th century extreme high altitude technical mountaineering clothing — which, by some awful trick of future fashion, is styled in the manner of 1980's skiwear. His suit is bright purple, and wrapped around his neck is a white scarf, trimmed on its ends with pure white feathers. The supernaturally or spiritually sensitive might recognize them as angel feathers. ]

Hi hiiiiii~!

[ He'll wave and greet anybody who approaches, all smiles in contrast to Chrysos' dour expression. He's happy to discuss the weather, the current situation, and — along with Chrysos — options for shelter and employment in this barren world. Or anything else, really. ]

[individualist]

[The angel feathers are pretty apparent to him not even by sight, rather by presence. It's more than enough of a reason for strike up conversation since...well, the only other Angel he knows of who's here is Uriel.

And that's kind of hilarious.]

What a catching scarf you have there. Are those feathers genuine?

[maddeninghatter]

[ He has actually met this man twice previously. The first time, Lucifer had been masquerading as a child. The second, there had been zombies involved. Thus it's perhaps not at all surprising that he doesn't make the connection. ]

They belonged to some rare bird, or so I'm given to understand.

[ What he does notice is....

Er.

It's a bit hard to put a name to it, this feeling that seems to dance on the edge of his perception, like a shadow in the dark. He's spent enough time in Uriel's presence to know what an angel feels like. He'd sensed something faintly similar from Solomon, when they'd first met. But this... this is something different. ]

If you want one like it, I'm sure I could arrange something.

[individualist]

I can't imagine the bird in question would appreciate it. I think I'll pass.

[Even if the idea of approaching Uriel while wearing it would be hilarious.]

Though I'm surprised it would give up it's feathers so easily.

[redsea]

[ Kougyoku isn't one to speak first, but it's Break's odd behavior that prompts her. ]

You shouldn't do that.

[ The cookie-stealing? The table-sprawling? The bad fashion choices? All of them, maybe. It is evident that Kougyoku's a little uncomfortable around him as she cants her head away and looks at him from the corner of her eye. She only came here to get a glimpse of the new arrivals and leave. She wasn't expecting a sideshow. ]

The Transports might be hungry.

1/2

[maddeninghatter]

[ She has caught him in the act of devouring a chocolate croissant, or rather 0.01 seconds before the act. He stops, with the pastry in mid-air, his lips parted; it's as though her words have shamed him... ]

[maddeninghatter]

[ CHOMP!

...or he'd been simply been placing her voice. With his mouth full: ]

He'ooo ooo feeend!

[redsea]

[ One moment, she looks utterly offended that he went through with the deed without remorse. In the next moment, she tries to collect herself as she recovers from Break's... eccentricity. ]

H-hello. [ He said friend, right. That was good. Even though he wasn't much of a friend to her, there was a chance, maybe. ] What are you doing?

[ You're not new, is what she means. ]

[soul_sister]

[Rosette, of course, has her usual armfull of stolen, yet delicious cookies, with the new joy of hot chocolate precariously balanced. She wasn't going to get near, in defense of her precious, ill gotten gains....

But.]

Where did you get that?

[She peers at the too-fabulous scarf.]

[maddeninghatter]

Get what?

[ It's a fair question. Break has amassed his own spoils as well: cookies of course, and hot chocolate, as well as Mister Cecil's moist, delicious, perfect scones, with a pat of yak butter. In addition, he has stolen one of Feferi's hats, three of Chrysos' pens, and Chrysos' table sign, which says "Information about Housing and Work."

Except it doesn't. By some misadventure, what it really says is, "Information about Housing and Wark."

[soul_sister]

[It will, when its noticed, create its own PSTD in time. Fucking penguins!!!

She reaches over, in answer, the scarf tugging gently as she picks up the end.]

I don't even know what kind of bird that's from...

[braavado]

[She's definitely sensing something from the feathers, but it's overshadowed by her amazement at his bright purple suit.]

Nice suit. But what's with the feathers?

[maddeninghatter]

I'm so glad you like it.

[ Where he's from, men totally wear feathers.



He does, anyway. ]

Have we met?

[senseandcecilbility]

[Kevin feels the feather scarf even before he sees it. Well, that is certainly a good cause for yelling. He springs over to Break and catches hold of the silly garment, his face on fire.]

Mister Break! What are you doing?

[Will people notice if he strangles him a little? With a little frustrated noise, he moves in front of Break and starts flailing, hoping to block the view of that horrifying accessory.]

[devotedtothecore]

[ People would certainly notice, yes. First and foremost the man seated beside Break (who has been enduring enough of his shenanigans and people asking after his shenanigans all morning as it is) glancing over at the yelling.

...

Or maybe he'll just turn back to his notes and pretend he's not hearing anything. ]

[senseandcecilbility]

[There is no escape from that. Kevin is on to Chrys as usual.

W-What are you looking at?

[This is the guy who stole his feather, after all.]

[maddeninghatter]

[ Despite being worlds away from home, some things never change. ]

I'm just — urgh — sitting here!

[ ...like his close friends trying to choke him. ]

[senseandcecilbility]

[Well, that only means he is tugging more at the feather scarf.]

That is not just sitting!

[Okay, maybe he should stop choking him for now.]

[showmeyourwreath]

[Flora eventually wanders over, but not without first making rounds elsewhere, a satchel of medkits at her side. She felt something much earlier, and thought it be very worth investigating but, well, the last time she felt something like this, she wasn't perfectly happy with what came of it. She does her job because she must and wants to, but also to try and disguise her intent, a little. It might all be for nothing, in the end, but she makes an effort.]

Hello, there. [She smiles, honest and polite, but subdued.] That's an interesting fashion statement.

[She actually sounds sincere, and not like she's subtly taking shots at him.]

How warm is that suit, if you don't mind me asking?

1/2

[maddeninghatter]

[ Don't worry, he's used to subtle pot shots. He's used to unsubtle pot shots, actually. He grins. ]

Why, thank yoooou~! ♥

[ At the moment, he's seated in an actual chair, although he's leaning back with its legs precariously balanced and his ankles crossed on the table. ]

It's very —

[maddeninghatter]

[ .........wait. He knows that voice, even though he's never formally met Flora. He pulls a petulant face. ]

You...

[ The legs of his chair come down with a whap. ]

You're the lady who hosted a tea party in the agricultural wing last fall!

[showmeyourwreath]

[She looks distinctly uncomfortable for a moment, but it's not to do with him; what a few days those later turned out to be.

Still, she can't understand why he'd act like that.]

Yes, I did...was something wrong with that?

[She doesn't sound defensive or accusing. It's an innocently asked question, even if, inwardly, she's preparing herself to be told that, yes, she did mess up, somehow.]

Re: Xerxes Break | OTA

[devotedtothecore]

[ Maybe his expression would be a touch less dour if a certain showboat of an individual would stop tampering with his side of the table.

It's around the fifth instance of it-- reaching for his no. 4 pen, distinctly where he left it three inches from the left edge and four from the bottom, only to grasp empty air and a bit of eraser dirt, that there's the tiniest audible snap.

Ah, he's going to have to sharpen that tip again. ]


If you're bored....

[maddeninghatter]

Bored? Me? I'm never bored.

[ He has the No. 4 pen, and he's clicking it in a random pattern, picked for maximum annoyance. ]

Only boring people are bored.

[ He fidgets again, for the forty-seventh time, and manages to get his chair precariously balanced up on one leg for a moment, before all of them come down abruptly. ]

I say! It's actually a bit entertaining to be here in a sort of official capacity, hmm?

[devotedtothecore]

[ For someone as attuned in senses to rhythm and regularity as Chrys is, the rhapsody Break's playing on that thing has all the melodious pleasure of a nail on a chalkboard. ]

You seem about as entertained as you are anywhere else.

[ He sticks the pencil between his teeth (can't pluck it from there, can you) and sets his gun on the table, plucking a few choice pieces from its many, many detachable parts and fitting them together with deft fingers and a screwdriver from somewhere. A blade-edge here, a screw there, pull this tube conically and split it down...

Partly muffled: ] And you've the time it takes to fix this pencil to return that pen.