transport log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

[initiates]

Date & Time: Oct. 24th
Location: The Initiative Hold
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been led to a banquet room within the Hold.
Warnings: None.

NOTE: This takes place during this plot, though the plot log will not be posted until tomorrow. The Transports already in game have returned from their mission to find the island overrun with monsters. The log is set within the safety of the Initiative Hold, however, so while characters will be aware of what is going on outside, they can otherwise go about their business as usual if they choose.

--

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. She looks worse for wear, pale and gaunt, though is putting a great deal of effort into maintaining her energy and professionalism for the new Transports. "I am truly sorry that you came at such a bad time. That wasn't intentional, I assure you."

She leads the way through the Initiative Hold. The walls bear the occasional claw mark as a sign of the misfortune that has plagued the island, but it hardly seems deserted anymore due to the other Transports recently returning from their mission. After turning several corners, you arrive in a large room that has been transformed into a makeshift banquet hall. The food presented is perhaps not as luxurious or bountiful as one would hope, but it is certainly enough to go around, and isn't inedible by any means.

"We wanted to try and make this up to you," she explains. "It's meagre, but we did not have much time to prepare." There are a number of Transports already present, some looking over the long banquet table, others seated throughout the room at large, round tables meant to each seat eight people. The mood is grim, despite the Initiative's efforts to raise morale.

Before the Greeter turns to leave, she is reminding you that it will be perfectly safe to explore the Hold, the courtyard, the housing building, and even a several block radius around it. "Hopefully things will be back to normal soon."

Welcome to the banquet. Welcome to the Initiative Hold—and most importantly, welcome to Exsilium.

Comments

[payback]

"Oops." It looks like the girl Larsa bumped into is ready to launch into being equally apologetic. Rin is carrying a sheathed sword, wrapped up in a bottle-green wool overcoat that looks like it's seen newer days, and her face is pale and somewhat tired-looking, but at least her expression is mostly kind when she glances down at Larsa. Albeit somewhat surprised. How old is this kid anyway?

"No, um, I'm good. Sorry, I should've been watching better too. Are you okay?"

[diplomatique]

"Quite alright."

Larsa held a gloved hand against his head, looking at the floor before he looked back up to Rin. Larsa, too, carried a sword, fastened to his side. It was close to scraping the floor with how long it was--but it was straight-edged and in good condition. He used it with careful precision, if it was polished but with natural wear.

"Thank you."

[payback]

How old was this kid? Twelve? She'd guess around there. He was teeny tiny and didn't look battle-ready in the slightest but for the sword, which was almost funny in its size anyhow. Rin's eyes dwelt on it nevertheless. You never knew what somebody could do in these kinds of places, full of expatriates from a plethora of worlds.

"You just arrived, huh?" Manners compelled: "Are you feeling okay?"

[diplomatique]

"Parched and starving but otherwise well."

Physically, anyway. Emotionally, that was a different story--and one Larsa kept tightly under wraps as best he could. It wasn't good to show too much of himself right now. Realizing her eyes lingered on Joyeuse, he glanced down to the hilt and found himself settling a gloved hand over it. "Is there something wrong?"

[payback]

She wouldn't have been inclined to pry even if he was weeping his eyes out, really. As it was: "No." She refrained from commenting that the blade looked, ahem, a little big for him. "Help yourself to the food. I think it's for all of us." More likely all the newcomers, but she was going to snag some vittles herself without any compunction otherwise.

[diplomatique]

It may very well be for all transports, but...

Truth be told, Larsa didn't know a lot of the foods.

"Should I recognize anything, perhaps I will." he confessed quietly, just finding a small roll of bread to nibble on instead. "Thank you."

[payback]

She'd have left him but that caught her. How foreign could he even be, to not recognize such basic foods? To be fair, Rin herself hadn't know what some things were when she first started hopping worlds. But she had enough perspective to know that plenty of people were effortlessly familiar with the things that were so bizarre to her.

"What don't you know?"

It made her feel sympathetic to him. That confusion.

[diplomatique]

As Larsa was from a world that wasn't very advanced, many things--bottles of water in clear containers, pastries with blocks of chocolate, large chunks of clean, red meat--these weren't even a luxury in Arcadia. They were a true rarity. After all, there were not many beasts that could be consumed in their state, infused with Mist or berserk on their own. Vegetables seemed to be different (or were those fruits? he recognized apples and pears easily) as well. With a bit of a frustrated stare at the plates before him, he humbly admitted, "Many foodstuffs. What do the containers hold, at the end of this table?"

(Larsa may know what water was, but he'd never seen anything but ale or wine stored in containers; still water was, after all, a sure sign of death.)