transport log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

[initiates]

Date: January 3rd
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been led to a banquet room within the Hold.
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.

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

[queenofblacktears]

[Ah, if only Ophelia's 'sense undead' abilities weren't useless for anything other than her own creations. She just shrugs at the question and then shakes her head.]

Oh I suppose. Couple weeks, maybe a month. Showed up just in time for all those animals to turn into little zombie pets. [Of which she has several in a cage.] Mostly been wasting time since then, there's really nothing</i to do here.

[symmachy]

[Scatty technically isn't dead! It's a very strange and complicated situation that involves quite a bit of magic. And she laughs slightly.]

That was certainly something. But I agree--it's quiet around here.

[queenofblacktears]

I mean, supposed there's a war we're fighting but other than the fact that everything here is drab, boring, and a little bit broken I haven't seen much evidence of it.

At least fighting would be interesting. Even those ghouls were a distraction, even if they were just...completely mindless.

[Ophelia almost sounds personally offended by that last bit. Undead were not supposed to be mindless!]

[symmachy]

[Oh no they... have the same views on people. What a beautiful friendship this could be if Scatty knew anything about having friends.]

Some things just can't be helped. [OR CAN THEY] But yes, it wasn't much of a challenge at all.

[queenofblacktears]

[Or if Ophelia didn't generally hate everybody.]

I don't know, it's not that hard to stir up a little chaos. I promised Eddie no killing people but that's not that big a limitation.

I know! [She sighs.] I couldn't even control the useless things, there was nothing there to hold onto.

[symmachy]

[It was never meant to be. Maybe.

But something else has caught her interest.]

Control them? Are you some kind of psychic?

[queenofblacktears]

Nothing so tedious. [Ophelia isn't quite sure how to explain it.]

Back home, all the undead listen to me.

[symmachy]

[Well.

That's something.]

Really. And why is that?

[queenofblacktears]

Well, not to strum my own guitar, but I am there queen.

[Ophelia is just so modest. She's practically preening.]

[symmachy]

Queen of the undead?

[EXCUSE U]

[queenofblacktears]

[She just grins.]

Yup. That about sums it up really.

[symmachy]

Impressive.

[queenofblacktears]

I certainly like to think so.

So what's your trick? Everyone here seems to have one.

[Okay, Ophelia's curious, even if she's not sure why.]

[symmachy]

[A small smile. She doesn't show her teeth.]

Nothing much.

[queenofblacktears]

[Ophelia looks skeptical, but shrugs after a moment.]

If you say so. I guess we aren't all cursed to wear our talents on our sleeves.

[Not that she thinks it's much of a curse, from her attitude. She rather enjoys freaking people out looking strange.]