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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

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[ Saber... you kind of suck with vague answers. Here, have one of C.C.'s. ]

Depending on how you view those sirs and misses.

And how do you view them?

[ NO ONE CAN OUT VAGUE HER EVEN IF C.C.'S PERSONALITY IS 99% VAGUE BULLSHIT. ]

[ So what's the 1%? ]

Everything and everywhere.

[ Hello Geass Subconscious of Humanity AKA God. ]

[ ASS. TITTIES. ASS. ]

A frustratingly vague response. I believe you to be a wizard with your words.

[ That's a pretty big 1%, tho'. ]

A consequence of being around for a while. You wouldn't be the first.

[ Yet it doesn't come close to her vague background THANKS GUYS. ]

Define a while.

[ NO POINTS GIVEN. ]

That I remain the same while everything changes.

[ And it isn't "wizard," Saber, gosh. ]

Immortality?

[ She's heard rumors of such things being possible, but it wasn't as though King Arthur herself could go on such a quest. Her kingdom believed her to be immortal themselves. ]

And you?

[ Not many jumped to that conclusion, even when she explicitly stated it unless they saw her reviving, unless they themselves experienced that somehow. ]

... Yes.

[ No getting around that. ]

Good to hear, good to hear...

And what about you? You sure look capable, guy.

How unfortunate.

[ There's a sympathetic note to that tone. ]

Really? So I guess you won't be the first to jump on our captors in the hope they'll send you back as soon as possible, then.

We, uh, get a lot of that too. It's kind of like a neverending echo at this point.

[ She's happy for it. To be able to return to Britain anytime they need her... ]

Well, to each their own with these sorts of things.

That's right.

[Well, at least it looked like the other person did listen to the lady.]

Do you need any directions and such?

Yes. There's always something or someone who will change that viewpoint.

[ Even if they're long gone. ]

A kingdom will always need a knight to return to it.

[ Someone though? People seem to pass by with immortality, don't they? Growing old, that sort of thing.

Best to not pry. ] Here we are.

[ The twinge of red alarms her, but it doesn't reflect in her expression. Saber's made a living in keeping the helm of stoicism secured tightly over her head and she's not about to let some unknown man split it open. They are familiar to the Command Seals of the magi from her world, but she doesn't feel as though there's another Servant nearby. Were they using some kind of spell to shroud themselves? ]

A man who claims to be armed clearly is without a weapon. What else am I to believe?

Two months, actually.

[He can't believe it's been that long, but when you're getting used to a place, these kind of things happen.]

...I see.

[In either case, he's sure that Kira can handle things by himself when the situation calls for it.]

If I thought jumping them was the answer...

[He doesn't bother to voice the conclusion; the threat. He's considered it, but as he is now, he'd be like an ant trying to move a mountain. However--]

There's strength in numbers. They have crowd control?

[Is this fellow one of those sorts who goes on a lot about doing what is right? Zevran is learning a little bit more about being heroic, bit by bit, but he still doesn't feel justly compensated, what with the being kidnapped from his mission and all.

Typically, he appraises higher than a room and board, though both are nicer here than many places he's found himself.]

--Again, is it? Remind me again how we met before. I do try to remember everyone I'm ridiculously attracted to within moments of meeting, but [a dramatic little sigh] there is so much beauty in the world...

Who, the initiative?

They can't fight for themselves at all. It'd just take one or two superhumans to completely overthrow them I bet.

Wait.

You're not thinking...

[Although on the inside Hazama's thinking DO IT, DO IT, IT'D BE HILARIOUS TO WATCH.]

You have a narrow definition of weapon, then.

[Not that he blames her -- she seems like a straightforward sort of girl, and although he recognizes the energy swirling quietly around her... She doesn't have the air of a Caster, so there's no real reason to expect her to make the leap of logic.

For which Kariya is grateful.]

You don't need to look so hard, though. Even I'm not sure what the Initiative gave me.

[That much, at least, is the unadulterated truth.]

Edited 2013-02-11 11:17 (UTC)

[He shakes his head, though he doesn't answer the question explicitly.]

The Transports seem to have a lot of free time.

[There's a slight edge to the observation -- pleasantry is as pleasantry does, but the sheer number of clearly settled fellow Transports milling about is making him uneasy.

Just what is the Initiative doing with their war?]

[He ignores the implications -- he isn't thinking about it so much as considering the situation at hand. Kariya, at the moment, has no illusions about his own ability vis-a-vis those in power here. The best he could do would be shorten his own remaining time.

Not exactly productive just now.]

If they can't fight for themselves at all, how have they lasted this long?

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