(no subject)

[initiates]

Date: February 1st
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings, while older Transports are returning from the mission to Uruguay.
Warnings: None.

While those who have been guests of Exsilium since at least the last wave of Transports return from their desperate mission and are pressed out of the Transporter room and into the Courtyard, the Initiative prepares to receive a second wave at the same time. And if you're in that second wave, the fresh meat, then 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

[masterofpuppets]

[He pulls out his netbook tablet whatever and sketches out this picture and holds it up to him:]

[iorhael]

So do I, though I would have to ask if we all were better off back home; caught between goblins and orcs no matter where we turned.

[Something dark seems to pass over Frodo's face at the mention of Gandalf. He looks strangely at Legolas, then away.]

He fell to fire and shadow; you saw yourself that not even a Wizard could escape such.

[caligulas_aquarium]

[The color of the lenses...

THE HORNS...

THE HAIR...THE SIGN EVERYTHING OH GOD NO]

Wh...

[HOW

DO

WORDS]

[iorhael]

[Frodo coughs, and steps further off, frowning at the Man]

And I mind even more so; do stop smoking in my direction.

[the Man's gaze is piercing, and somehow worse, knowing. Frodo has had quite enough of people knowing of him before he knows a thing about them. Aragorn had only meant to help, but even Frodo found it tiring after awhile to be kept in darkness and mystery and riddles.]

I imagine one could never forget being chased by a monster or rescued by a man of your look, and I don't remember such at all. Who are you?

[iorhael]

Heavens above, why would you turn such dreadful weapons on another person?

[iorhael]

[Better the new one at this rate. For being so small, your sneezes are quite large (and largely messy)]

I could point you to the buildings, if you would like. It isn't too far.

[iorhael]

[Frodo rubs at his shoulder. The little dragon is large enough that a good bump will also likely leave a good-sized bruise.]

It's all right. It will be fine in a bit.

[the Dragon seems very polite, that Frodo takes advantage of getting so close to it; if one finds a dragon that isn't intent on burning everything down or making a snack of a hobbit, one ought to make the most of it]

You are very well-mannered for a dragon, you know.

[masterofpuppets]

[He just watches silently while holding it up for a few seconds.]

... I get the feeling you're having some kind of internal crisis. So I'll just send this to you and you can get your fucking brood on over it later or by yourself or whatever.

[He turns the tablet to face him and prepares to send the drawing to Eridan's net tablet thingamajig.]

[frombrooklyn]

[ New one it is! ]

I'd appreciate it if you could. You don't have to go all the way with me, though, just a few directions would do.

Maybe Bilbo should be crying. He'd have better luck herding cats

[iorhael]

[Frodo shakes his eyes, though something in him falls at the mention of Gandalf. He doesn't have the heart to tell Thorin that he watched Gandalf fall to the Balrog not long ago]

I have only seen Men, a fair number of elves, and a few other hobbits. But no dwarves.

[Frodo had taken a step back instinctively before he stopped himself. Thorin was much more intense than he imagined originally. He supposes that Bilbo never could quite do him justice.]

Bilbo actually killed an orc? Then it seems you have been brought from out of both frying pan and the fire, and into a strange respite.

[heirwithouthope]

[Physical differences he could make out for himself, though he didn't entirely miss the distaste in his voice before when he called him a dragon.]

You knew me as a dwarf. What business have you had with them?

[caligulas_aquarium]

Yes it's some sorta bloody internal crisis! I mean, not that I wanna be half anyone, but for god's sake of all the trolls I coulda been thrown into a sprite with he...

Oh god, it's ewen half an' half, the bastard'll probably get off to that, fuckin' freak.

[douchebag.jpeg received!...not that eridan notices but he will later]

Did Rox' know about this?? She is one a' your gamemates right. Co-players or whatewer.

[kneecaptain]

[ Not too long ago, he'd been seeing Steve everywhere. In the sleeves of strangers on the subway, in misplaced faces in the crowd. Everywhere. But Bucky wasn't seeing Steve at all. So he tried to get out of the habit. ]

Steve?

What the hell happened to you?

[heirwithouthope]

[It wasn't a matter of having problems with the race of Man, as Thorin has never been at odds with them the way he was with orcs and elves (if anything, Men provided him with work when he needed it). But his heart belongs to the long-suffering dwarves. More than that, it was his obligation to bring them home and restore their dignity.

The thought of leaving them against his will hurts him much worse than his wounds.] I will not. In Durin's name, I will be returned.

[masterofpuppets]

So the guy you got fused with is here too?

[He doesn't put his net tablet away yet.]

Nah, she's from a different time point than me. Why?

[reassures]

Not guns like Gilbert?

[A sword... she hasn't actually known very many people that use them. Dave, Naoto... if there were others, she can't remember them anymore.]

He must look a lot different than Gilbert does.

[caligulas_aquarium]

Yeah, it's Sol...lux. Dumb lookin' blue an' red shades, four little mutant horns, lisps all his s words, hard to miss.

An' I don't know I just. Wouldn't know how to react if she did an' didn't tell me. I'd be pissed and happy, it'd be weird.

[reassures]

Thank you. That's good to hear.

[It is. She refuses to think of this as a hopeless situation. There has to be some way she can go back to that world - even if it's slightly questionable. She'll do whatever it takes to make it happen.]

WHY DO YOU BUILD ME UP (BUILD ME UP) BUTTERCUP BABY JUST TO LET ME DOWN AND MESS ME AROUND

[heartsink]

"That's fine, I'm used to that." The reply comes easy, the polite smile of reassurance once again pulling into her cheeks. "Elevators tended to be more trouble than they were worth, and it was easier to trust myself than something that couldn't be predicted." The specifics of it were complicated, and a little more exciting than the presentation of 'Harkua's life' was meant to be.

A half-shrug, for her purse to drop from her shoulder to her elbow, and Ruka's already digging beneath an unusual assortment of items (sure, that knife was gone too and would need replacing, but Ruka did not know many people who carried this much of a first aid kit just in a shoulder bag; passport, spare eye patches, and so on) to find the apartment key. "I didn't examine it too closely, are the numbers on the keys themselves?"

[maddeninghatter]

[ He's one of those "unfamiliar faces" and stops when he hears her greeting. ]

My, myyyyyy~!

You're awfully cheerful.

[ He doesn't reach for her little pamphlet however, even as he says: ]

Are you offering to to do the guiding, hmm?

[masterofpuppets]

Together you're impossible to understand and a complete piece of shit, no offence.

So you and Rox are friends?

[chore_boy]

(OOC: No worries! I lose myself in tense sometimes. @@)

Plenty of it, actually. Since I'm not technically ranked here, I'll have to return to my normal training regiments.

[Given that he wasn't in the New World as well--he would definitely have to keep himself active. Those in the New World only grew so strong because they were constantly facing danger beyond their stations. He had to create the same sort of training environment to mimic that and he was already growing weary of the thought.]

If you want some help, I can definitely volunteer myself. It may not just be to have another body there to take swings at, but I find it helps to ask for advice where it's needed.

[chore_boy]

Well, normal energy drinks. I imagine I could only get benefit from this particular brand if I were utterly exhausted. Though, the cost itself would be something I'd have to measure properly.

After all, if I were in a serious fight, it could be a real liability.

[frombrooklyn]

[ Steve looks back up so fast he almost cricks his neck; as it is, the grip he has on the shield finally slips. He manages to move his feet mostly out of the way so that the edge of the metal only catches his left big toe. Still, the sharp pain that shoots up from it is more than enough to do the work of pinching himself "awake", which is what he'd been considering to do next.

Curling down to grab the shield and discreetly rub his toe at the same time, he says, ] I ... I joined the army. Then I woke up here.

But Bucky, what happened to you? How'd you -- ?

[fintastic]

It's okay! I'm not offended, really, it's not the worst thing I have ever heard, and I haven't even heard anything really bad before anyway!

I think it's funny, actually.