exsiliumlogs | (no subject)

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Jesse's actually glad when the guy sits down. Of course, he'd rather not have to deal with him at all, but sitting's a lot better than trashing the tent, beating the shit out of Jesse, and dragging him off somewhere.]

I guess I'm not... really. I mean, I suck in the kitchen. Like, ask me to make dinner? I'm totally a frozen dinner kinda guy. But my kid loved the sweet stuff, so me and his mom used to do a lotta baking. And baking's easier than cooking, if you ask me, 'cause it's all right there in the instructions. You don't even gotta watch it. Just put it in the oven and take it out when it's time.

[Jesse examines the cookie in his hand briefly before stuffing the rest of it in his mouth.]

[ Yeah that's a nice sob story, buddy--

...he'd say, were he in a worse mood and impatient, but actually there's little he hopes to gain from this, so Adam doesn't put a lot of effort into it to begin with. Doesn't sound as tough as he looks, anyway, and so far hasn't given Adam a reason to use any kind of force.

So he's just smoking, and listening, and wondering. ]

Is it really? I usually just stick to stuff that doesn't require any kitchen appliances. [ A pause as he takes a drag. ] Like cereal.

Cereal, yeah. I used to eat a lotta cereal.

[He's done with story time. The sob story's the honest-to-god truth, but he doesn't like talking about Brock. He lights himself another cigarette and looks out at the crowd.]

And now you eat a lot of --

[ He gestures vaguely at the offered goods which Adam still finds somewhat questionable, because who does that. Maybe someone like Ranka. Or Collette, just with milkshakes. ]

Cookies?

[ Adam's ignoring the crowd for now, but it's hard to tell what he's paying attention to anyway. He may as well be browsing the network while he's talking to Jesse. ]

That doesn't sound very healthy.

[ Look who's talking. ]

Nah, I don't eat too many of 'em. They're mostly for everybody else.

[He could stand to gain the weight, though. Underneath the baggy clothes, he's bony as hell in that meth addict sort of way.]

[ He noticed. ]

Maybe you should. Best way to advertize your own product. Unless, of course, you're not entirely sold on it yourself.

[ Adam's been trained to read people, of course he has ways to make it even easier; but he's been burned badly the last time he was too nosy and used his social enhancer on someone--not an experience he really cares to repeat, so he internally debates this, letting silence and smoke both linger for a moment. ]

Why do you give them away for free, anyway.

I was hungry when I first got here.

[Starving, actually, but that part he leaves out. He's staring down at his cigarette, ruminating over it while he taps the ashes out onto the ground.]

The very first thing that happened was these girls - Collette and Rin - found me and they forced me to eat, like... insisting on it. They didn't even make me pay for it. I was like in shock, but they took care of me. I thought that was real nice. I mean, they didn't even know me. So I thought it'd be nice if everybody new could have that.

So I guess I'm paying it forward.

[ Sounds like something Collette would do, oddly enough. If the other man is telling the truth--and it sounds like he is--well, then there's certainly a lot of honesty being offered here. Which is surprising since Adam's pretty used to having to press people for answers. So he's gonna be honest, too. ]

I do hope that's all it is. Used to be a street cop, you know. I can tell.

[ Though most of the time he doesn't particularly care what people do to their own bodies. It's when others get involved--possibly against their will--is when he starts to take issue with it.

As for his own smoke, he's almost done with it. Oh, and that candybar he took out earlier? Turns out it's actually an energy bar, you know, one of those high-protein, muscle-building ones. He's shoving it over the makeshift table in Jesse's direction with one of his prosthetic hands, then gets to his own feet, looking about ready to leave. ]

You can probably use that more than me.

[The cop thing doesn't surprise Jesse. This whole encounter's reminded him of his various experiences in the interrogation room. What does surprise him is the energy bar. His brow wrinkles as he examines the thing, and then he throws a skeptical look up at Adam. Feeding the guy he suspects of poisoning the population? Fucking weird.]

Thanks?

[Is that the correct response to being vaguely threatened and then gifted?]

[ Well, Adam's a pretty weird guy. Known to gift hobos with booze and do hookers favors without actually wanting to bang them. ]

You too.

[ And then he takes another one of those cookies and these better be decent because otherwise he'll be back and complain and maybe hit Jesse for figuratively poisoning him with shitty tasting cookies.

Yeah.

And off he goes. ]

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you might wanna take a look at this: http://neveraskedforthis.dreamwidth.org/1633.html

DONE

YAY

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