(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

[velveteened]

( follows her )

What did I do?

[motioned]

[UGH she turns around and kind of ineffectually shoves her wagon at him so it lightly bumps against his shins. This is effective ok.]

Go away!

[velveteened]

( puts away like three more while jesse says that. he is really impressed because he is way before the days of frozen cookie dough or modern ovens. )


You don't have to be so modest! Besides, that's really nice of you.

[velveteened]

( it doesn't really hurt but the fact that she'd do that on purpose...! )

Did someone say something about me?

nikolai luzhin | as open as the legs of-- okay, I can't

[justthedriver]

[ From a city of darkness to a city of rain. Nikolai looks at the sky and thinks it's ironic. He's sent back to London, but it's a different London, with a different sky. He's looked at the map and he knows this is England. The weather tells him it is as well, especially with the way it won't stop raining. Don't seem to ever stop as well.

There's a card between his fingers. Money they give him, in return for service. That he knows well enough. Nikolai is no soldier, but labour for money is a concept well-known. Capitalist ideals, traitorous ideals, the old vor will say as they echo the words of Stalin and Lenin and Trotsky, the leaders inked upon their skins. (But they never really believe in it, because how can they, when all vor want to be princes and there are no princes in communism?). Capitalist though it might be, it's what he's used to. Money in his hand. Sometimes he thinks he has almost forgotten the feel of notes, of coins. Just cards.

In Abax there's no money, no cards. No people except what has been dragged there for sport and food for the monsters. But this is no Abax. This is Exsilium, in the year 3000, and Nikolai laughs in the faces of those who believe in communism because a thousand years passed and capitalism still rule. Can't help it, really, when the vor has held onto those tenets during its years underground in the Soviet Union. Thieves they might be, but sometimes Nikolai thinks that to understand 'human', to know what being a person means, you have to think like a thief. Thief of life, thief of time. In the language of the common people, they call it 'survival'.

He walks along the streets. The cigarettes he brought to him from Abax are stale and he spends his money first on a packet that he hides inside that oversized jacket that drapes upon his shoulder. There's dried blood, long faded, on the light grey jacket, on the edges of his shirt, and hidden in the black of his pants. He smokes a stale cigarette and thinks of the dark city as he walks along these streets. The rain falls down upon him but Nikolai barely notices it as he looks around himself.

Sometimes he wonders if he'll ever get to see the sun again. Get some vitamin D, as Yuri or a doctor will say, and Nikolai laughs to himself, shoulders shaking, at the thought. Strange. Months and months have passed, and he still does not forget those he has left behind back in the London he knows, the London he's starting to think of 'real' (when no place has ever been 'real').

Sentiment, maybe. Or perhaps he's missing Kirill, or Semyon, and the thought is so absurd he almost chokes, his shoulder slamming against the side of the wall as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. ]

[reassures]

[For a moment, she actually looks a little curious.]

What was it like?

[motioned]

Yes, but I don't have to tell you anything, I told you to go away!

[Pulling it back and then shoving it into his legs again!!]

[nikubaka]

Dagger. [ Easy enough to remember. But it's so unusual he doesn't even tack on the normal honorific...plus isn't she younger than him? Ah well, no need to hash that out now. ]

My name is Kuroh Yatogami. It's good to meet you, under the circumstances.

[lifemelody]

[She'll smile at her]

You too, Kuroh. Thank you again for the advice.

[velveteened]

( wow that's so rude!! he kind of jumps when she shoves it at him again, which ends in him landing in the wagon. not as planned, but hey. )

Isn't that kind of dangerous...?

[holy_prankster]

[He's already finding you adorable!]

No? Hmm then what would you call it?

[motioned]

[She just stares at him in shock for a minute because wow did he really. The nerve!]

Get out of my wagon.

[She realizes she's still holding the peanut butter cookies and throws them at his head.]

[hostage]

[He gives an embarrassed little laugh.]

I guess. Um, I mean - thank you.

[reassures]

[Friends?

The minute that thought crosses her mind, Nill lifts her head to stare at him.

Friends. He had friends here. Did friends mean he'd made them? Or...

Were they from Inaba? Was it Souji?

She's still miserable, her chest still aches, but now there's something white hot and angry where her breastbone is in her chest. Nill takes a step back from him, gripping her tablet in one hand.]

I don't want it.

[They won. The people from Inaba had won. Well good for them. They were the original timeline, and they got the original Yosuke, and all the people she's ever cared about are probably just pathetic offshoots just like she is. But they're hers, and she's done with this alpha timeline bullshit.]

I don't want you.

[Angry tears (or maybe those are still the miserable ones) roll down her cheeks, but she pays them no mind.]

[fintastic]

Oh!

[ She thought he meant something else. Giving the dog one last pat, she straightens up. ]

That's so cute! Well yes, I'm sure you will be able to find some dog food! And if not, there are some wild animals you can hunt.

[hostage]

Uhhh... hanging out.

[theboywhodied]

Cedric grinned back. "Absolutely. Warm ones, with butter." He had a weakness for putting good food together---not that it detracted from the tea! He took another sip, and it was still wonderful.

"Even if I can't go home, that's no reason to give up. If this is going to be my home, I'll protect it." And protecting it meant being prepared to fight. He thought he'd been ready, but he needed to work at it. Stronger spells, better strategies.

Cedric looked faintly surprised, but he nodded gratefully. "Thank you. But the biscuits can't be all the repayment you want, right?"

The training could be long. Cedric was stubborn enough to keep fighting until he collapsed.

steve rogers | open

[frombrooklyn]

[ In the end, he decided on a shield.

Considering that it was helping keep the rain off of him now, one arm slung over his head and the other held tight against his torso, it was relatively good decision on his part as far as decisions went. What might have been a better one, though, would have been to ask for a shirt.

Still, might haves never got anybody anywhere good, so Steve clenches his teeth down against the shivering of his body and moves resolutely forward, keeping an eye out for some kind of booth offering clothing and being careful not slip on the wet ground under his bare feet at the same time. It isn't hard work but it is slow. He keeps his head ducked as he shuffles along near the fringes of the crowd, ignoring the shakiness in his limbs, the dull throb of his chest where the cold is settling in. No use crying over spilt milk, and hey. It's not as if he's bad off or anything, far from it. He's got money on him and, according to the lady back there, a place to stay.

You can do this, Rogers. Just need to keep focu--

He sneezes. ]

[holy_prankster]

He watched as the breeze was created to move the overhanging above them. "Hmm so I see!" Of course he tried not to speak the thoughts running through his mind, and simply snickered quietly to himself before he spoke in amusement. "You must have been training with it for quite some time to manipulate it so well."

[velveteened]

( he really wants to know who has been badmouthing him behind his back! was it vincent? he bets it was vincent )

Who was it?

( and oh god he ducks to avoid the flying projectiles is this the real life )

Ahiru! ( okay this is getting ridiculous ) I'll leave you alone if you tell me.

[holy_prankster]

Hanging out? [he tested the term unnecessarily before clasping his hands together.] Then yes, we must hang out teehee~!

[velveteened]

What's your name?

[hostage]

[What a weird guy.]

Right on.

[hostage]

Jesse.

[motioned]

[She huffs, crossing her arms over her middle, staring down at him with a glare.]

It doesn't matter who said it! I don't care if - if you think you're his master or whatever, you better leave my father alone if he ever shows up here! Or else I'll—

[But she doesn't actually have a threat. Oop.]

Now get out of my wagon!